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THE 

CALUMET  OF  THE  COTEAU, 

AND    OTHER 

POETICAL  LEGENDS  OF  THE  BORDER. 

ALSO, 

A  GLOSSARY  OF  INDIAN  NAMES,  WORDS,  AND 
WESTERN  PROVINCIALISMS. 

TOGETHER   WITH 

A   GUIDE-BOOK 

OF   THE 

YELLOWSTONE    NATIONAL    PARK. 


BY    P.    W.    N.ORRIS, 

FIVE   YEARS   SUPERINTBNDLNT    GP   THJ   TELLOWfTOWt    NATIONAL    PARK. 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1884. 


Copyright,  1883,  by  P.  W.  MORRIS, 


To  my  early  and  dear  friend  who  long  ago  by  the  Miami  of  the 
Lakes,  in  the  wilds  of  Northwestern  Ohio,  strengthened  my  youthful 
ambition,  I  am  indebted  for  the  impulses  which  from  time  to  time 
found  expression  in  poetic  fancy. 

As  a  reminder  of  those  days,  so  fraught  with  pleasure  and  profit, 
and  as  a  slight  token  of  gratitude  to  one  whose  character  I  admire 
and  whose  friendship  I  cherish,  the  following  legends  are  dedicated 
to  the 

HONORABLE  MORRISON  R.  WAITE, 

Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States. 


I  SING  IN  SONGS. 

I  SING  in  songs  of  gliding  lays 
Of  forest  scenes  in  border  days ; 
Of  rippling  rills  in  valleys  green, 
And  mirrored  hills  in  lakelet  sheen ; 
Of  mountain-peaks  begirt  with  snow, 
And  flowery  parks,  pine-girt  below  ; 
Of  daring  deeds  of  border  braves, 
On  dashing  steeds,  to  gory  graves ; 
Of  brawny  breast  'neath  painted  plume, 
On  warrior's  crest,  in  dash  to  doom; 
Of  light  canoe  on  dashing  shore, 
And  daring  crew,  who'll  row  no  more  ; 
Of  goblins  grim  and  canons  grand, 
And  geysers  spouting  o'er  the  strand; 
Of  Mystic  Lake,  of  Wonder-Land. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  production  of  the  stanzas  which  compose  the  fol 
lowing  narratives  of  incidents,  legends,  and  traditions  of 
border-life  are  not  the  result  of  any  preconceived  plan 
or  elaborate  preparation,  but  are  the  spontaneous  out 
growth  of  circumstances  and  events  as  diverse  and  pecu 
liar  as  the  strains  in  which  they  are  written  or  the  scenes 
which  they  portray. 

Tender  affection  and  filial  regard  for  a  disabled  soldier 
sire  of  Pilgrim  descent,  an  affectionate  mother  of  Welsh 
birth  and  lineage,  and  a  numerous  family  of  young  and 
dependent  sisters,  impelled  my  boyish  footsteps  from  our 
frontier  cabin  of  love  to  the  toils  and  dangers  of  a  trap 
per's  life  along  the  great  lakes,  rivers,  and  amid  the 
mountains  of  the  pathless  Northwest,  in  order  to  assist 
one  parent  in  his  increasing  age  and  failing  strength, 
and  the  other  in  her  efforts  with  the  rude  weaver's  shuttle 
in  providing  for  the  comfort  and  education  of  my  sisters. 
From  this  revered  Welsh  mother  I  doubtless  inherit  an 
ardent  love  for  mountain  and  song.  The  stern  realities 
of  border-life  strengthened  the  one  and  wellnigh  strangled 
the  other;  and  under  the  opinion,  still  retained,  that  the 
poet's  fantastic  visions  rarely  accord  with  the  cool  calcu- 

9 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

lations  requisite  for  business  success,  I  seldom  allowed 
these  day-dreams  encouragement  or  record.  Yet  these 
unbidden  visions  were  occasionally  pencilled  by  the 
camp-fire,  in  hours  of  danger,  as  a  solace  from  care 
or  as  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of  cherished  comrades 
gone;  but  they  were  seldom  long  retained  amid  my 
wanderings. 

Those  which  memory  cherished  were  published  under 
the  nom  de  plume  of  "  Glen  Alpine,"  my  own  name,  for 
business  reasons,  being  usually  concealed. 

Of  these,  "Gallant  Charley  Reynolds,"  "Cloud-Cir 
cled  Mountains,"  and  especially  "The  Union  of  the 
Valleys,"  published  soon  after  the  Custer  massacre,  were 
encouragingly  received.  Since  that  time  the  remaining 
poems  have  been  written,  usually  with  pencil  only,  when 
and  where  occasion  called  them  forth,  and  preserved, 
which  was  generally  all  accorded  them  during  my  five 
successive  years  of  arduous  duties  as  superintendent  of 
the  Yellowstone  National  Park.  Pending  the  adjustment 
of  my  accounts  in  connection  with  this  duty,  and  the 
preparations  for  those  of  Ethnological  research  among  the 
mounds  and  other  prehistoric  remains  in  the  Mississippi 
Valley  during  the  past  season,  these  fugitive  poems  were 
gathered  up,  revised,  and,  with  explanatory  notes  and  a 
glossary,  somewhat  arranged,  and  now,  together  with  a 
few  additional  legends,  and  a  map  and  guide  for  the 
Yellowstone  National  Park,  prepared  for  publication. 

It  must  be  evident  that  persons  associating  in  youth 
with  comrades  of  many  nations,  speaking  dissimilar  Ian- 


1NTR  OD  UCTION. 


II 


guages,  the  guttural  jargon,  or  employing  signs  as  a  mode 
of  communication,  could  hardly  escape  acquiring  lasting 
habits  of  speech  and  a  style  of  writing  very  unlike  their 
native  tongue ;  hence,  despite  change  in  the  construction 
of  verses,  and  the  addition  of  connecting  words  in  many 
of  these  stanzas,   abundant   evidence   remains  to  prove 
they  were  written  tinged  with  an  idiom  clearly  distinct 
from  ordinary  English.     This  is  regretted,  and  earnest 
efforts  have  been  made  for  its  modification  in  the  recent 
use  of  words  and  construction  of  sentences.     Thus  the 
want  of  grammatical  accuracy  in  this  work  is  not  as  in 
those  of  some  authors,  an  intentional  provincialism,  but 
the  inherent  defects  of  the  early  training  of  the  author; 
and  hence  it  is  hoped  that  this  consideration  may  some 
what  turn  aside  the  shafts  of  unfriendly  criticism. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  conceded  that  this  admitted  lack  of 
style  and  finish  in  the  verses  is  in  part  counterbalanced 
by  the  truthful  description  of  the  marvels  in  the  Goblin 
and  Wonder-Lands,  and  the  ever-changing  scenes  of  the 
border,  in  which  the  author  has  largely  participated,  and 
the  faithful  recital  of  the  legends  or  traditions  of  the  days 
agone. 

Nor  has  the  author  sought  to  invade  the  sacred  pre 
cincts  of  classic  literature,  or  trespass  upon  the  trodden 
fields  of  poetic  fame,  but  as  a  tireless  pioneer  and  path 
finder,  he  has  explored  the  route,  blazed  the  trail,  and 
brought  away,  rough-hewn  and  unpolished,  some  of  the 
countless  gems  hidden  upon  the  rolling  coteaus,  the 
snow-  and  cliff-encircled  parks  and  lovely  valleys  of  an 


1 2  JNTR  OD  UCTION. 

empire  now  in  the  closing  throes  of  transition  from  a 
race  of  stoic  lethargy  to  that  of  resistless  energy  and 
progress. 

If,  by  the  publication  of  these  gliding  narratives  of 
slaughter,  of  sorrow,  of  heroism,  or  of  hope,  the  author 
shall  have  rescued  from  impending  oblivion  a  few  of  the 
thrilling  scenes  and  unknown  actors  of  this  momentous 
era,  and  thereby  encouraged  others  to  fill  future  poetic 
volumes  of  authentic  history,  he  will  feel  that  recalling 
and  publishing  these  camp-fire  recollections  and  sketches 
of  a  life  upon  the  border  has  not  been  utterly  in  vain. 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  CALUMET  OF  THE  COTEAU 17 

THE  GOBLIN-LAND 40 

THE  MYSTIC  LAKE  OF  WONDER-LAND 45 

THE  FAITHFUL  LOVERS 50 

GALLANT  CHARLEY  REYNOLDS 60 

PILGRIMS  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE 63 

CAPTIVE  MAIDEN 67 

THE  WONDER-LAND 70 

BOLD  HERO  OF  THE  BORDER 73 

STALWART  YEOMAN 75 

Go  WHERE  DUTY  CALLS  THEE 77 

THE  DYING  MANDANS 79 

THE  DYING  TRAPPER 81 

BOZEMAN  BOLD 84 

THE  CLOUD-CIRCLED  MOUNTAINS 86 

WHERE  ELSE  ON  EARTH? 88 

BRADLEY  THE  BRAVE      ........     90 

FROM  BIG-HORN'S  BLEAK  MOUNTAINS 92 

MYSTIC  LAND 94 

THE  GRANGER  SONG 96 

BORDER  BRAVE        99 

THE  TATTOOED  ARTIST IOi 

THE  MOSQUITO IIO 

FRIGHTENED  HANS II2 

THE  WINDING  DELL       . H4 

AFAR  FROM  THE  CITIES  AND  HAMLETS  OF  MEN  .        .        .117 
OH,  IS  THERE  IN  THIS  WORLD  SO  DREAR?  .        .        .        .119 

To  THE  TIE  AT  HOME I2i 

THE  WARRIOR'S  GRAVE *     .  123 

I  SING  IN  SONGS 12$ 

2  13 


14  TABLE    OF  CONTENJS. 


BLAZE  BRIGHTLY,  O  CAMP-FIRE! I27 

UNION  OF  THE  VALLEYS         .        .        .        .        .        .        .129 

OH,  FOR  BARD  TO  TRULY  TREASURE     .        .  .        .131 

RUSTIC  BRIDGE  AND  CRYSTAL  FALLS     .        .        .        .  132 

HIGH  TOWERS  THE  CRAGGY  SUMMIT i35 

LONELY  GLEN .137 

REYNOLDS'S  DIRGE I3g 

YES,  BE  IT  THUS I39 

IN  CABIN,  CAMP,  OR  COUNCIL I4o 

YES,  EVERY  ONE  A  MAN I4I 

THE  ARTIST  STANLEY c 


MlN-NE-HA-HA 146 

LOVELY  RIVER ,4- 

BURIAL  TEEPEE .148 

BOLD  TRAPPER  OF  THE  CAMP-FIRE 149 

THE  WARRIOR'S  DIRGE I^o 

CYPRESS  SHADOWS jr2 

I'VE  TRAILED  THE  PROUD  COLUMBIA     ...  153 

Ho,  WAKEN! .'        .  157 

NORTHERN  CLIME !^9 

DE  SoTO !        .'  162 

NoTES 171 

GLOSSARY .^22^ 

GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  .         .  235 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PACK 

1.  THE  CLIFF  AND  QUARRY  OF  THE  PIPESTONE  OR  SACRED 

CALUMET      .          .....       Frontispiece. 

2.  THE  INDIAN  COUNCIL 24 

3    CUSTER'S  BATTLE-GROUND 37 

4.  THE  GOBLIN  LABYRINTHS        ......    43 

5.  THE  DARING  MAIDEN 56 

6.  THE  DYING  TRAPPER 82 

7.  RUSTIC  BRIDGE  AND  CRYSTAL  FALLS      .         .        .         .133 

8.  MAP  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK         .        .  235 

9.  MAMMOTH  HOT  SPRINGS          .        .        .        .        .        .  245 

10.  MAP  OF  THE  UPPER  GEYSER  BASIN        .        .        .        .255 

11.  BEE-HIVE  GEYSER 257 


THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

'SAY,  hast  thou  seen  the  cal-u-met*  of  pink  or  purple 

bright, 

A  pipe-bowl  in  the  council,  a  hatchet  in  the  fight  ? 
And  heard  the  Indian  legend,  all  of  a  deluge  grand, 
Of  time  agone  uncounted  o'er  the  Da-ko-ta  land  ; 
When  a  remnant  of  the  red  men  upon  a  rocky  crest 
Were  gathered  where  the  eagle  had  built  his  lofty  nest, 
And  the  rising  waters  swallowed  all  save  a  virgin  lone, 
Who  clung  to  the  war-eagle  and  nestled  in  his  home ; 
When  from  receding  waters  the  rocky  crest  arose, 
Lo !  turned  to  shining  jasper  were  mingled  friends  and 

foes? 

Then  hovered  the  Man-i-touf  to  view  the  horrid  scene, 

A  cliff  of  rocky  warriors  above  the  coteau  green  : 

"  This  rock,"  he  cries, ."  is  sacred ;  no  warrior  here  shall 

stand 

With  bended  bow  and  arrow,  or  battle-lance  in  hand ; 
No  war-whoop  here  shall  echo,  no  scalping-knife  shall 

gleam, 

But  o'er  the  rolling  coteau  shall  glide  a  crystal  stream, 
And  emerald  pools  shall  sparkle  along  the  lovely  vale, 
For  cleansing  baths  of  warriors,  where  foes  shall  not 

assail ; 


*  Cal'u-met,  the  sacred  pipe  of  peace. 

f  Man-*  (pronounced  e)  -tou,  the  Mysterious  Spirit,  or  God. 
b  2*  17 


18  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF  THE   COTEAU. 

But  all  shall  meet  in  friendship  around  the  rocky  crest, 
Where  the  weak  shall  dwell  in  safety  and  the   '  weary 
be  at  rest.'  " 

Thus  spake  the  proud  Man-i-tou  unto  the  mongrel  brood 
Of  the  maiden  and  war-eagle,  who  stern  around    him 

stood, 

Who  on  the  crest  an  altar  of  shining  jasper  made, 
And  sacrifice  of  bison  upon  it  reeking  laid, 
As  pledge  of  compact  sacred,  when,  lo  !    from  cal'met- 

bowl — 

The  wand  of  the  Man-i-tou — the  flames  of  heaven  roll 
From  the  stem  to  waiting  altar,  as  lightning  from  above, 
And  incense  sweet  from  bison  seals  pledge  of  peace  and 

love, — 

From  altar,  then,  Man-i-tou  quick  carves  a  cal'met  bright, 
And  how  to  smoke  it  taught  them,  then  vanished  from 

their  sight ; 
But  the  Was-sa-mo-win*  flashing  transpierced  the  eagle's 

nest, 

And  glazed  to  hardest  adamant  the  towering  jasper  crest ; 
But  the  foot-print  of  the  eagle  deep  in  the  rock  remains, 
And  the  blood  of  slaughtered  bison  the  crag  a  crimson 

stains. 

Forth  went  the  stalwart  red  men,  and  wandered  o'er  the 

earth, 
Each  clan  with  purple  cal'mets  carved  at  their  place  of 

birth, 

To  smoke  on  each  occasion  of  council  for  a  peace, 
When  all  who  smoked  to  totem  pledged  massacre  should 

cease ; 

*  Was'sa-mo'win,  lightning. 


THE   CAL-U-MET  OF  THE   COl^EAU.  19 

But  the  pipe  with  blade  of  hatchet,  and  stem  with  eagle's 

plume, 
And  paint   of  bright  vermilion,  are  smoked  as  call  of 

doom  ! 
For  eagle's  plume  on  hatchet-stem  was  the  totem  of  the 

sire, 

Which  warriors  made  in  battle,  and  stoics  in  the  fire ; 
While  the  bowl  of  peaceful  maiden  was  smoked  for  war 

to  cease, 
That  each  should  meet  as  kindred,  and  all  should  dwell 

in  peace. 

But  lost  were  maidens'   cal-u-mets,  while  the  warrior's 

hatchet  new 

Was  ever  carved  more  gorgeous,  as  savage  habits  grew ; 
And,  as  virtue  ever  suffers  by  compromise  with  crime, 
So  the  eagle's  bloody  hatchet  hewed  the  maiden's  pipe  in 

time ; 

And  when  her  children  wandered  far  to  the  cal'met  land, 
Lo  !  too  hard  was  rock  to  make  them  with  tool  in  human 

hand ; 

In  sore  distress,  the  Wa-kon,  as  mother  of  the  race, 
With  sacrifice  and  prayer,  was  sought  to  show  her  face ; 
When  lo  !  in  cloud  she  hovered  above  the  eagle's  nest, 
And  sweet-voiced  like  the   zephyrs,   her  children   thus 

addressed : 


"  Oh,  children  !  my  children  !  your  prayers  I  hear, 
Go  forth  on  the  coteau  and  gather  the  deer, 
The  elk  and  the  bison,  and  antelope  fleet, 
For  slaughter  and  offering  as  sacrifice  sweet ; 
2  But  the  bison,  so  lofty,  so  fleet,  and  so  white, 
Oh  !  mar  not  his  beauty,  but  follow  his  flight ! 


20  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF  THE    COTEAU. 

Where  his  hoofs  turn  the  rocks  on  the  trail  of  the  slain, 
In  that  crimson-stained  rill  seek  for  pipe-stone  again, — 
Carve  and  smoke  from  the  quarry  by  blood  rendered  soft ; 
Live  in  peace  with  each  other, — I'll  view  from  aloft ! 
That  the  eagle  may  sanction  this  compact  divine, 

3  These  five  eggs  I  leave  for  your  witness  and  mine ; 

4  Lo  !  beneath  are  two  grottos  for  Wa-root-ka's  home, 
To  watch  all  your  doings  wherever  I  roam. 
Farewell,  my  dear  children  !  I'm  goddess  at  home  ; 
But  the  proud  eagle  governs  the  warriors  who  roam  !" 

Thus  spake  the  mother  Wa-kon,  beneath  her  floating  hair 
Of  waving  spray  and  rainbow,  then  vanished  into  air. 
Adown  into  the  valley  they  trailed  the  bison  white, 
When  near  the  eggs  (now  adamant)  beheld  a  cheering 

sight ; 

Of  cal'met  rock  a  fragment  by  bison  hoof  upturned, 
In  stream  of  blood  from  sacrifice,  upon  the  coteau  burned ; 
The  quarry  found,  deep  in  the  ground,  beside  the  crystal 

stream, 
Ever  retains  those  crimson  stains,  matchless  to  carve  and 

gleam ; 

Whence  alone  have  cal'mets  purple  for  all  the  Indian  race 
Quarried  been  beneath  the  waters,  which  bear  a  crimson 

trace. 

Full  soon  were  pilgrims  gathered,  from  Win-ne-ba-go  band, 
And  Cher-o-kee  and  Choc-taw,  from  sunny  southern  land  ; 
The  Mo-hawk  and  Wy-an-dotte,  from  eastern  timbered 

vales, 

Brule,  Flat-head,  and  Wa-lu-la,  amid  the  western  dales ; 
The  Sem-i-nole  and  Eu-taw,  'mid  creeping  southern  vines, 
Bold   Chip-pe-wa  and   Hu-ron,  from   tow'ring  northern 

pines ; 


THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU.  21 

The    Pe-quod    and    Mo-hic-an,   from    Atlantic's    granite 

shore, 

With  Cay-use  and  Nis-qual-la,  from  the  loud  Pacific's  roar; 
The  Ban-nock  and  Sho-shon-e,  dull  Ute  and  crafty  Crow, 

5  Bold  Chey-enne  and  Da-ko-ta,  the  latter  called  Si-oux. 

Brave  Paw-nee  of  the  prairies,  Pi-ute  from  Lava  Plains, 
A-rick-a-ree  and  Man-dan  (whose  fields  Missouri  drains) ; 
Pilgrims  from  each  were  gathered,  friends  here,  though 

elsewhere  foes  ! 
In  pools  removed  was  war-paint,  plunged  hatchets,  lance, 

and  bows, 

As  brothers  all  united  to  gather,  carve,  and  smoke 
Cal-u-mets    from    quarry   sacred,    and    Man-i-tou's   love 

invoke; 
Young  warriors  with  ambition  the  "  Leaping-Rock"  to 

press, 
Found  horrid  death  in  failure,  and  honor  in  success ; 

6  In  jasper  cairn  they  buried  the  maid  and  warrior  gone, 
And  bright  their  totems  painted  upon  the  walls  of  stone. 

O,  lovely  days  of  beauty  and  happy  nights  of  peace ! 
All  countless  are  the  bison,  the  elk  are  slain  with  ease ; 
The  Man-dan  round  his  earth-lodge  his  garden  tills  secure, 
The  yellow  trout,  and  speckled,  fill  dashing  streamlet  pure; 

7  The  woolly-sheep  and  big-horn  skip  near  the  crests  of 

snow, 

Unnumbered  in  the  valleys  are  the  shaggy  buffalo ; 
Swift  antelope  and  black-tails  bedeck  the  treeless  plains, 
And  swans  with  snowy  plumage  the  glades  Missouri  drains ; 
In  light  canoes  the  Chip-pe-was  their  Mon-o-nim*  secure, 
These  countless  gifts  of  providence  to  nature's  God  allure. 

*  Mon-o-nim,  wild  rice. 


22  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

Oh,  these  blissful  days  are  waning,  and  bitter  days  begun, 
With  the  coming  of  the  pale-face  athwart  the  rising  sun  ! 
Their  "big  canoes"  with  eagle-wings  are  matchless  in 

the  race, 

Terrific  are  the  warriors  with  bearded  throat  and  face, 
8  Bestride  fleet  hornless  bison,  resistless  in  the  strife, 
And  from  their  side  oft  flashes  a  long  and  flaming  knife ; 
From   bosom  gleams  bright  totems,  war-bonnets  shield 

their  eyes, 
Each  war-lance  darting  lightning,   their  thunders  rend 

the  skies ; 
Flames  from  their  monster  cal-u-mets  blaze  like  a  meteor 

star, 
And  unseen  barbless  arrows  are  deadly  from  afar. 


The  artless  child  of  nature  in  silent  wonder  gazed, 

9 Then  from  the  "Mighty  Medicine"  in  terror  fled  amazed. 

Scarce  had  these  tales  of  wonder  traversed  the  mighty 

lakes, 

Ere  echoing  new  thunder,  primeval  silence  breaks ; 
Nor  hissing  bolts  of  murder  pursue  for  human  gore, 
10  Pure  Hen-ne-pin  and  Du-luth  visit  for  good  the  shore ; 
And  through  untrodden  forests  they  seek  the  boundless 

West, 

"  Till  the  Prairie  Min-ne-tan-ka  their  wanderings  arrest, 
When   lo  !    amid  the  pastures  of  mingled   flowers  and 

green, 

High  o'er  the  Min-ne-ha-ha,  St.  Anthony  is  seen. 
On  halo  crest  of  rainbow  that  spans  his  canon  walls 
He  with  his  own  name  christens  the  Mis-sis-sip-pi  Falls, 
And   hails   the  wond'ring  Frenchman,   in  accents  clear 

and  strong, 
"Adown  this  mighty  river  in  safety  glide  along 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF  THE    COTEAU.  2^ 

From  the  lake-land  of  the  pine-tree  to  the  cypress  by  the 

sea, 

But  along  its  western  borders  are  a  people  brave  and  free. 
No  pale-face  foot  in  sacrilege  may  press  Dakota's  plains, 
For  thus  our  Wa-kan-tan-ka  the  sacred  right  ordains. 
With  curling  smoke  of  cal-u-met  they'll  greet  you  to  their 

shore, 

But  all  advance  the  tomahawk  will  terminate  in  gore." 
With  kind    intent   the  warning  given,   in    birchen-bark 

canoe, 
Like  Chippewa,  St.  Anthony  quick  vanishes  from  view. 

Full  soon  the  sons  of  nature  in  mighty  council  meet, 
To  pledge  the  roving  pale-face  as  brother  all  to  greet. 
"With  purple  pipe  the  chieftain  first  heavenward  points 

above, 
Then  east,  and  west,  and  north,  and  south,  for  witnesses 

to  prove 
The    friendship   that   he  proffers,   upward   with   curling 

smoke, 

Prove  ever  true  and  lasting,  or  the  Wa-kon's  curse  invoke ! 
With  one  long  puff  from  sacred  pipe,  each  passes  it  along, 
'Mid  bold  harangues  of  warriors  and  mingled  dance  and 

song, 

Till  all  have  pledged  Man-i-tou  each  as  a  friend  to  know, 
While  sun  and  moon  shall  circle,  or  crystal  waters  flow. 

Thus,  where  the  Min-ne-so-ta  the  Mis-sis-sip-pi  meets, 
And  fairy  Min-ne-ha-ha  in  matchless  beauty  sleeps, 
Warriors  of  Man-i-to-ba  and  from  Mis-sou-ri's  strand, 
Foxes  of  Mil-wau-kee  and  the  Mi-am-i  grand, 
Chieftain  of  Min-ne-o-la,  on  crested  helmet  sheen, 
Runners  of  Min-ne-o-pa,  from  rolling  coteaus  green, 
With  fiery  Mish-e-wau-kee  pledged  the  Man-i-tou  God 
That  coteaus  of  Da-ko-ta  by  whites  should  ne'er  be  trod; 


24  THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE    COTEAU. 

But  the  roaring  Min-ne-tan-ka  a  border  hence  shall  be 
Betwixt  the  native  rovers  and  those  from  o'er  the  sea. 
First  pale- face  from  the  council  then  down  the  river  passed ; 
By  the  fate  of  Indian  nations,  happy  had  they  been  the  last ! 


THE   INDIAN    COUNCIL. 


Too  soon,  alas  !  the  Long-Knife  upon  his  charger  came  ; 
Anew  they  smoke  the  cal'met,  and  friendship  pledge  again ; 
But  no  Le  Sueur  or  Juno,  with  hearts  of  truth  and  love : 
'Twas  now  a  band  of  traders,  robbers  where'er  they  rove. 


THE   CAL-U-MET  OF  THE   COTEAU.  25 

With  honeyed  words,  but  hearts  of  lust,  they  promised 

but  to  win, 

Practised  vile  arts  on  innocence,  proud  revelling  in  sin  ; 
Cheating  alike  in  what  they  bought,  and  gaudy  trinkets 

sold ; 

Every  craft  was  justified  to  garner  furs  and  gold  ; 
The  flowing  cup  of  sorrow  they  luring  hold  in  sight,— 
Pelf  sanctifies  the  weapons, — "success  is  ever  right." 
13  Naught  care  they  for  the  sufferings,  the  hunger,  thirst,  or 

cold 
Of  agonizing  victims,  so  with  gore  they  gather  gold. 

At  first  they  taste  with  caution,  then  drink  and  drink 
again, 

Like  flock  of  simple  goslings,  soon  sense  with  bottle 
drain ; 

Then  dance,  and  laugh,  and  swagger, — men,  not  maid 
ens,  kiss,  then  fight. 

Reeling,  they  fall  while  boasting ;  for,  to  act  the  demon 
right, 

Needless  stage,  or  school,  or  college  ;  for  lo  !  one  bottle 
full 

Of  liquid  fire  ruin  brings  to  wisdom,  wealth,  and  soul, 

Slaying  alike  all  nations, — the  merry  sons  of  France, 

The  sturdy  sons  of  Erin,  or  Brule  with  scalping  dance. 

Proud  slaves  it  makes  of  votaries,  who  freedom  ne'er  re 
gain,— 

The  viler  gall  the  fetters,  the  sweeter  seems  the  chain. 

Thus  with  the  simple  red  men:  entranced  by  poison  vile, 
While  to  their  old  friends  cruel,  they  on  the  traders  smile, 
And  in  their  revels  barter,  not  furs  and  health  alone, 
But  wife  and  daughter's  virtue,  to  trader,  viler  grown. 
And  when  the  coteau-mother,  her  simple  race  to  save, 
Invokes  the  Eagle  chieftain,  him  too  she  finds  a  slave 
B  3 


26  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

Of  passion  vile  and  cruel — oh,  horrid  tale  to  tell  !  — 
His  daughter,  young  and  lovely,  to  trader  seeks  to  sell, 
14 For  wife  to  grace  the  harem,  and  firm  unite  his  race 
With  chieftain  of  the  Long-Knife  and  smiling  bearded 
face  ! 


Behold  the  mother  Wa-kon,  upon  the  coteau  crest, 
In  agony  imploring  for  her  people  sore  oppressed : 

"  Man-i-tou  !   oh,  Man-i-tou  !  save  us 

From  the  foe  that  would  enslave  us ; 

From  the  pale-face  ever  smiling 

On  the  maiden  he's  beguiling, 

And  from  ancient  brave  confiding, 

Robs  the  pinto  he's  bestriding, 

To  the  warrior  proud  and  daring 

Cup  of  Min-ne-bo-ta  bearing, 

Thus  the  fount  of  sorrow  nursing, 

Soon  a  flood  of  crime  and  cursing ! 

11  Now,  my  chief,  once  true  and  loving, 

From  my  arms  is  ever  roving, 

And  for  fount  of  fiery  water 

Seeks  to  barter  darling  daughter; 

Oh,  night  of  woe,  and  morn  of  sorrow, 

Dark  the  day  and  drear  the  morrow  ! 

Oh,  my  stricken  form  is  quaking, 

And  my  yearning  heart  is  breaking  ! 

Oh,  Man-i-tou  !  save  my  daughter, 

And  chief  and  race  from  crime  and  slaughter  !" 

Where  the  lovely  Mississippi  unites  with  Pepin  Lake 
15  Tower  high  o'er  crystal  waters  huge  crags  of  crumbling 
slate ; 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE    COTEAU.  2y 

In  fairy  grove,  'mid  prairie, — hard  by, — stood  pale-face 

den, 

And  there  pure  Min-ne -ha-ha  was  to  have  wedded  been ; 
But  ere  she  left  the  fairy  falls  which  honor  still  her  name, 
She  to  her  Min-ne-o-la  pledged  faithful  to  remain  ; 
Then  down  the  stream  in  birch  canoe  he  vanishes  unseen 
To  Pepin's  hidden  grotto,  and  there  awaits  his  queen  ; 
With  life  and  hope  and  nimble  step,  if  fate  allow  her  to, 
If  not,  to  leap  from  towering  rock,  and  die  with  lover  true. 

The  spirit  of  the  Eagle,  with  hatchet,  plume,  and  lance, 
Was  ever  for  the  war-path,  the  reeking  scalp,  and  dance, 
While  the  nature  of  the  maiden  through  all  these  ages  ran 
With  tenderness  to  woman  and  fellowship  with  man. 
Tho'  wars  were  fierce  and  bloody  upon  the  distant  plain, 
O'er  all  the  sacred  coteau  there  spouts  no  crimson  stain, — 
And  in  its  vale  of  refuge  beneath  the  rocky  dome 
Are  ever  peace  and  safety  as  in  a  parent's  home ; 
But  red  men  on  the  river  have  evil  grown  apace, — 
The  doings  of  the  Long-Knife  have  ever  cursed  the  race. 

The  trader's  speckled  harem  of  every  tribe  and  hue, 

Of  wrangling  whelps  and  pappoose,  and  maidens  ever  new, 

'Twas  there  pure  Min-ne-ha-ha  was  sought  for  a  queen 

awhile, 

16  Then  thrust  aside  degraded,  to  delve  in  kennel  vile ! 
Strange  if  with  such  example  she  fails  to  see  the  snare, 
Or  seeing,  preferred  dying  ;   but  first  a  maiden's  prayer: 
"  JVTan-i-tou  !   oh,   Man-i-tou  !   grant  hunger,   thirst,  and 

toil, 

Faint,  paddling  in  the  rapids  or  delving  in  the  soil, 
Share  the  sufferings  of  our  people,  the  perils  of  our  race, 
But  wed  me  not  to  pale-face, — pray  spare  me  that  dis 
grace,— 


28  THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

I  love  my  Min-ne-o-la, — oh  !  let  me  share  his  lot, 
Or  deep  beneath  the  waters  be  evermore  forgot !" 

But  frenzied  was  the  Eagle  by  venom  from  the  still, 
And  to  gratify  that  passion  relentless  was  his  will ; 
In  vain  was  mother's  pleading,  unheeded  maiden's  prayer, 
His  warriors'  scowls  derided  ('twas  in  the  trader's  lair); 
With  hatchet  high  uplifted  (no  passage  knew  to  plain), 
Vowed  she  should  Long-Knife  marry,  or  mingle  with  the 

slain  ! 

The  daring  wife  of  Eagle,  with  all  a  mother's  love, 
17  The  secret  passage  opens, — quick  darts  the  turtle-dove  1 

"Love,  mother, — oh,  my  mother!   to  you  and  chieftain 

true, 
Pure,  I'll  die  with  Min-ne-o-la!"    and  to  the  crest  she 

flew, — 
No  frenzied  sire  nor  Long-Knife,  nor  lance  nor  quivering 

dart, 

Can  reach  the  flying  maiden  or  pierce  the  fluttering  heart. 
The  summit  gained,  alas !  one  glance  at  earth,  then  heaven ! 
Then  from  the  giddy  crest  she  leaped,  like  bolt  by  thunder 

riven, 

Deep  'mid  the  crystal  waters,  pure  as  her  truth  and  love, 
To  arms  of  waiting  chieftain,  where  mermaids  ever  rove  ! 
Though  ages  long  have  vanished,  warriors  and   nations 

sleep, 
18 Still  oft  in  wave-kissed  grottos  sing  they  at  "Maiden's 

Leap." 

"All  hidden  our  grotto  beneath  the  blue  waters, 

That  requiems  murmur  as  gliding  along ; 
Nor  wrath  of  the  Eagle  at  queen  of  his  daughters 

Our  refuge  shall  darken,  or  fetter  our  song : 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE    COTEAU.  29 

O  Wa-kon  !  our  mother,  dost  spirit  still  hover 
Around  the  bold  cliffs  and  blue  waters  below, 

While  evening's  soft  zephyrs  waft  low  wails  of  lover 
O'er  Pepin's  pure  waters  at  twilight  aglow  ? 

And  while  Min-ne-so-ta  meanders  in  sadness, 

Low,  murmuring  through  valley,  'adieu  to  our  race.' 

19  And  thou,  Mis-sis-sip-pi,  bear'st  temples  in  gladness, 
With  loud  strains  of  music  their  progress  to  trace, 

Shall  plumed  Min-ne-o-la,  unchanging  as  lover, 

With  paddle  scarce  dipping,  chant  boat-song  of  braves, 

And  pure  Min-ne-ha-ha,  the  wild  cliffs  above  her, 
Make  laughing  re-echo,  our  dirge  from  the  waves  !" 

Not  humbled  by  his  folly,  nor  by  its  woe  and  cost, 
But  furious  at  the  mother  whose  love  the  maiden  lost, 
He  sealed  with  warrior's  hatchet  the  cal'met  Wa-kon's 

doom  ! 
Too  late  drunken   Man-i-tou  pales  'neath  his  paint  and 

plume, 

The  stroke  his  race  has  destined,  tho'  struggling  to  re 
main, 

Yet  sure  to  fade  and  vanish.     Once  in  a  sober  vein, 
Proud  Eagle  pleads  in  anguish, — no  Wa-kon  hears  his 

calls : 
No   more   remorse,  but   bitterness   henceforth   his  mind 

enthralls, — 

The  mercy  of  the  maiden  has  fled  the  copper  race, — 
The  vengeance  of  the  Eagle,  relentless,  takes  its  place  ! 

And  now,  alas !  the  Eagle  in  anger  chose  a  mate, — 
Not  one  who  fosters  mercy,  but  ever  favors  hate  ; 
Who  like  an  earthly  vixen  with  jealousy  oppressed, 
Quick  soar'd  to  cal'met  coteau,  and  rent  the  Eagle's  nest ; 

3* 


3o  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE    CO TEA U. 

Then   perched   upon   the  eminence,   to  cool   her  wrath 

awhile, 

But  nursing  roused  it  higher,  with  purposes  most  vile : 
;'  This  is  the  Eagle's  heritage,  and  I  his  favored  mate, 
These,  Wa-kon's  loving  children,  their  every  act  I  hate; 
They  meet  and  wash  the  war-paint  in  my  crystal  bathing- 
pools, 
They  dig  and  smoke  in  friendship,  and  act  like  simple 

fools ; 

As  tho'  our  elk  and  bison  were  made  for  them  alone, 
They  sing  and  dance  and  gabble,  wild  revelling  in  our 

home, 

And  plotting  with  each  other  against  their  royal  chief, 
That  /  am  an  intruder,  War-Eagle  but  a  thief! 
While  they  audacious  plunder  the  pillars  of  our  throne, 
And  whittle  smoking  cal-u-mets  from  our  choicest  purple 

stone ; 
I'll    teach    them    how   to    chatter,    to    frolic,  sing,   and 

dance, — 
These  children   of  another,— oh,    how  I'll    make   them 

prance  ! ' ' 

Then  to  the  Eagle  hastens,  near  Min-ne-o-la's  home, 
(Lest  her  untimely  absence  allow  her  chief  to  roam)  ; 
Like  a  true  stepmother,  his  willing  ear  she  fills 
With  projects  grand  but  simple,  to  'scape  all  earthly  ills. 
'Twas  but  to  borrow  thunder,  and  lance  and  gleaming 

knife, 

And  steeds  of  Shun-ka-wa-kan,*  and  follow  their  new  life 
Of  ease  upon  the  prairies,  at  cal'met  coteau  bright, 
Demanding  of  these  pilgrims  by  what  heritage  or  right 


*  Shun-ka-wa-kan,  sacred  dog, — *>,,  horse, 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU.  31 

They  live  in  ease  and  plenty  on  our  deer  and  antelope, 

And  dig  away  our  quarry,  or  lazily  to  mope, 

While  we  from  home  as  strangers  wander, — "Oh,  my 

chief, 
Would  thou  wert  Eagle  warrior,  then  were  our  sorrows 

brief!" 

"Hold,  my  consort !"  cries  the  Eagle, 
"  Have  all  as  you  will ; 
I  am  ready,  I  am  willing, — 

Revel,  rob,  ahd  kill. 
20  Bury  purple  cal'met  peaceful ; 

Quench  its  azure  smoke  ; 
Grasp  the  hatchet  crimson  reeking, 
Death  at  every  stroke  ! 

When  the  simple  peaceful  pilgrim 

Seeks  a  cal'met  bright, 
I  will  burnish,  I  will  furnish 

For  a  wampum  bright. 
I  will  slaughter  on  the  coteau 

Till  a  crimson  stream 
Floods  the  quarry,  drowns  the  pilgrim, 

And  I  crown  my  queen. 
Then  will  follow  Min-ne-ke-wa, 

Long  a  trail  of  gore, 
From  the  coteau  to  the  river 

And  Lake  Pepin's  shore!" 

Thus  a  new  era  opens, — once  his  passions  roused 

By  wine  and  crafty  woman,  he  with  the  pale-face  housed 

Hostage  ample  in  payment  for  the  murderous  tools  of 

war  ; 
Then  hastens  in  wild  splendor  to  the  coteau  of  the  fair. 


3  2  THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

The  pilgrims  in  amazement  gather  along  the  stream 

To  view  the  prancing  chargers  and  of  arms  the  burnished 

gleam ; 

Nor  long  were  left  to  wonder,  for  loud  the  trumpet  calls, 
And  musket  peals  re-echo  along  the  rocky  walls, 
Above  the  roaring  waters,  beside  the  Leaping-Rock, 
Which  quivers  like  an  aspen  from  the  unwonted  shock  ! 

Soon  the  War-Eagle  summons  unto  his  teepee  all 
(While,  Satan-like,  his  consort  prompts  menace  with  the 

call)  : 

"Why  sap  ye  the  foundation  of  my  rocky  home  and  nest, 
By  digging  for  the  cal'met  beneath  its  tottering  crest? 
A  tribute's  mine, — a  portion  of  what  you  quarry  here  ; 
One-half  of  all  yourcal-u-mets, — sure,  that  is  not  too  dear; 
Beside,  of  deer  and  bison  and  beaver  of  the  rill 
Mine  be  the  furs  and  robes, — of  the  carcass  eat  your  fill, 
Save  choice  of  loin  tender, — hence  pledged  to  me  and 

mine, 
As  coteau's  great  Wa-kan-da,  by  a  standing  right  divine." 

In  blank  and  mute  amazement  the  pilgrims  stand  around, 
Like  claims  of  crafty  rulers  people  wiser  oft  astound  ; 
Full  soon  they  break  and  scatter,  departing  each  his  way, 
The  cowards  to  pay  tribute,  the  bold  the  chief  to  slay. 
But  vain   on   earth   is  innocence,   the  weak  against  the 

strong, 
For  "might  makes  right,"   and    hopelessly  fights  right 

against  the  wrong. 
Full  soon  from  cowards'  tribute,  or  plunder  stained  with 

gore, 

The  ghoul  is  paid,  with  usury,  and  shrewdly  trusted  more; 
For  slaves  of  vice  and  rapine  are  often  from  this  cause 
By  masters  safer  trusted  than  those  obeying  laws. 


THE   CAL-U-MET  OF   THE    COTEAU.  33 

21  Thus  soon  the  Wa-kan-she-cha  had  crushed  or  slain  the 

race 

Of  the  ever-loving  Wa-kon,  and  a  covey  reared  in  place — 
Fit  whelps  of  the  War-Eagle  and  his  Cay-ou-ta  mate — 
As  venomous  as  serpents,  as  sly  and  sure  as  fate  ; 
In  league  with  vilest  pale-face,  and  through  him  with  the 

de'il, 
By  courage,  or  through  cunning,  make  all  their  neighbors 

feel 

That  such  a  race  of  robbers  resistless  soon  must  prove, 
And  slaughtered  are,  commingled,  or  far  away  remove; 
Thus  all  winds  seemed  to  favor  the  fierce  Da-ko-ta  clan, 
Scoffers  at  the  laws  of  God  !  deriders  of  the  rights  of  man  ! 

With  the  cunning  of  Mahomet,  a  religion  new  they  made, 
To  suit  their  lust  and  rapine,  deeming  war  a  holy  trade ; 
Each  Sioux  born  a  warrior,  the  steed  his  constant  friend, 
His  earliest  hope  the  sun-dance,  to   nerve  and  courage 

blend  ; 

Thence  proudly  on  the  war-trail,  a  reeking  proof  to  claim, 
Scalps  helpless  squaw  or  pappoose  (all  count  a  coup  the 

same), 

Then  yelling  to  the  council,  bedaubed  with  sickening  gore, 
Flaunts  maiden's  scalp  as  warrior, — then    hastens  after 

more ; 

Each  thought  and  plan  and  struggle  is  for  a  warrior's  fame, 
Blood-daubed  and  painted  savage,  loud  glorying  in  his 

shame ; 

Sure  if  his  fate  in  battle  be  from  his  steed  to  die, 
In  bliss  to  soon  bestride  him,  with  plume  on  bonnet  high  ! 

Thus  the  courage  of  the  eagle  and  the  cunning  of  the  wolf 
Are  blended  in  the  Sioux,  in  their  very  web  and  woof; 


34  THE    CAL-U-MET   OF   THE    COTEAU. 

A  score  of  clans  they  scatter  far  o'er  the  western  plains, 
From  the  lovely  mountain  valleys  to  the  glades  Missouri 

drains, 
Build  their  teepees  far  in  Britain  and  their  lodges  'long 

the  Platte, 
While  professing   peace  and  friendship  ravage   like   the 

mountain-cat ; 

With  deep  regret  the  chieftain  gathers  his  clan,  to  know 
The  guilty, — all  are  innocent, — "Sure,"  says  the  culprit, 

"  'twas  the  Crow." 
With  outward  grief  but  secret  sneer  at  pale-face  want  of 

sense, 
Rations  and  arms  they  thus  secure  ("poor  lambs!")  for 

self-defence  ! 

Then,  basely,  from  the  council,  they  revel  as  of  old, 
In  slaughter  of  the  ranch-men,  and  pilgrim  seeking  gold; 
The  Crow  and  the  Shoshone,  and  the  treaty  still  sustain, 
As  firmly  binding  others,  while  they  its  terms  disdain  ; 
Their  gorgeous  tents  and  teepees  loom  grander  every  day ; 
With  reservation  plunder,  or  from  murder  on  the  way, — 
To  lairs  beyond  the  prairies,  far  o'er  the  sterile  plains, 
Amid  the  rolling  coteaus  the  mighty  Big-Horn  drains, 
Along  a  smiling  valley  beneath  a  rocky  crest, 
Where  Sioux  squaw  and  warrior  in  teepees  seemed  at  rest ; 
When  Custer  from  the  Rose-Bud,  adown  a  streamlet  came, 
Not  scouting  well  for  ambush,  but  boldly  seeking  fame, 
And  rashly  scattering  warriors,  which  united  were  too  few, 
Charged  fearless  'mid  the  teepees  where   leaden   arrows 

flew. 
Grim  smiled  the  taurine  chieftain,  as  the  war-whoop  in 

the  vale 
Shrill,  knelled  the  fate  of  Custer,  and  his  country  left  to 

wail ! 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF  THE    COTEAU. 


35 


Oh,  chosen  lair  of  ambush  !  oh,  fatal  charge  of  braves  ! 
No  mercy  for  the  living,  and  for  the  dead  no  graves  ! 
For  vain  were  deeds  of  daring,  'mid  countless  hosts  of  foes 
Commingled  in  the  torrent  which  red  with  carnage  flows, — 
Or  on  the  coteau  struggling  for  victory  or  retreat, 
With  sword  and  carbine  opening  a  route  through  pintos 

fleet,— 

'Mid  lasso,  lance,  and  hatchet,  the  conflict  soon  is  o'er, 
In  slaughter  of  our  vet'rans  who  foe  shall  meet  no  more  ! 
And  when  the  evening  shadows  would  hide  the  scene  of 

shame, 
Bright  gleams  the  knife  and  hatchet  by  blazing  teepee's 

flame ; 
And  fiends  with  reeking  trophies,  each  marred  with  bloody 

stain, 

Arrayed  in  gory  garments  and  tresses  of  the  slain, 
With  shout  and  strut  and  swagger  and  screeching  ambush 

yell, 

Mimic  the  groans  of  dying,  on  scenes  of  scalping  dwell, 
Till  hungry  ghouls  grow  eager,  and  venom,  conquering 

age, 

Joins  plumed  and  plumeless  savages  in  revelry  and  rage, — 
Each  boasting  of  his  glory  in  daring  days  of  yore, — 
While  painting  for  the  war-trail  fresh  butchery  and  gore. 


And  now  from  our  legend  a  moment  refrain, 

In  this  valley  to  linger  o'er  dust  of  the  slain, 

82  And  'mid  the  wild  roses  with  carnage  once  red, 

Oh  !  chant  for  our  heroes  the  "Dirge  of  the  Dead," — 

These  heroes  whose  duties  were  finished  too  soon, 

Rosy  morning  of  promise  beclouded  ere  noon  ; 

When  the  steed  and  his  rider  vain  struggled  for  shore 

At  the  ford,  where  the  torrent  ran  purple  with  gore  ; 


3  6  THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

From  that  dark  cloud  of  battle,  red  field  of  the  slain, 

Sad  tidings  reach  kindred,  fond  hoping  in  vain  ; 

May  each  mourning  parent  thank  God  for  a  son, 

Whose  troth  to  his  country  is  faithfully  done  ! 

23  On  the  crest  of  the  coteau  once  crimson  with  gore, 

Oh,  gather  our  heroes  !  their  battles  are  o'er, 

And  the  "long  roll  and  rally"  shall  rouse  them  no  more  ! 


Soft  zephyrs  sweet  whisper  their  sighs  o'er  the  plain  ; 
"  Revered  by  our  country,  not  fallen  in  vain, 
Though  moulder  our  ashes  and  lowly  each  bed, 
'Tis  only  life's  casket  which  sleeps  with  the  dead  ; 
Our  spirits  are  basking  afar  from  the  grave, 
In  bowers  of  Eden  awaiting  the  brave, 
Where  the  warrior  with  hatchet  ne'er  enters  for  gore ; 
For  cal'mets  of  purple  are  smoked  as  of  yore, 
With  friends  and  with  comrades  in  bliss  evermore. 


When  from  such  feast  these  demons,  begrimed  with  paint 

and  gore, 

Leave  wolves  to  finish  revel,  and  hasten  after  more ; 
24  Nor  bold  as  men  of  courage  'gainst  remnant  on  the  hill, 
But  prowling 'long  the  border,  the  innocent  to  kill ; 
As  vultures  scent  the  carrion,  each  teepee  of  the  brood 
Along  the  trail  to  slaughter  swarms  forth  its  whelps  of 

blood  ! 

The  bold,  thrifty  yeoman  seeks  wealth  in  the  West, 
The  mate  of  his  bosom  a  dove  from  its  nest ; 
Through  deserts  and  dangers  they  suffer  and  roam, 
Till  in  sweet  sheltered  valley  they  make  them  a  home ; 
Soon  neighbors  build  round  them,  all  labor  in  peace, 
Till  of  strength  over-conscious  does  vigilance  cease. 


3 8  THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU. 

Bestride  his  fleet  pinto,  over  mountain  and  glen, 
Rides  the  proud  Sioux  chieftain  unto  rapine  again, 
With  ghouls  from  the  slaughter  of  our  Custer  and  men, 
And  whelps  from  their  kennels  in  each  valley  and  glen, 
From  the  crests  of  the  mountains  white  glist'ning  in  snow, 
These  friends  scan  this  Eden  all-enchanting  below; 
In  darkness  descending, — fitting  season  of  crime, — 
While  the  orb  of  the  evening  refuses  to  shine, 
Like  the  scream  of  the  eagle  o'er  the  nest  of  the  dove 
Is  the  war-whoop  of  savage  in  the  valley  of  love ; 
Like  true  painted  demons,  naught  is  sacred  they  find, — 
Happy  homes  are  before  them,  smoking  ruins  behind. 

But  the  sword  of  vengeance  tardy,  erst  gleaming  o'er  the 

brood 
Of  the  Eagle  and  Cay-ou-ta,  must  now  be  drenched  in 

blood 

Drawn  forth  for  that  of  pilgrims  upon  the  coteau  slain, — 
Mercy's  plea  from  innocence,  be  now  as  then  in  vain. 
From  the  coteaus  of  Wy-o-ming  and  Co-lo-ra-do's  plains 
To  Sas-ka-sha-an  foaming,  that  Britain's  forest  drains; 
25  From  the  fairy  Min-ne-ha-ha  and  lover's  wailing  strand 
To  snowy  mountains  tow'ring  athwart  the  Wonder-Land, 
Revel  their  Indian  neighbors;  none  their  fate  bemoan  ; 
The  children  reap  the  harvest  by  cruel  parents  sown. 
In  gory  banquet  reeking  sinks  warrior,  maid,  and  child, 
'Mid  blazing  tents  and  teepees,  by  revelry  defiled  ; 
Swells  one  loud  wail  of  agony  from  sea  of  flame  and  gore, 
Like  scream  of  dying  eagle,  then  silence  evermore  ! 

Long  the  spirit  of  the  Wa-kon  fond  hovered  o'er  her  race, 
Then  from  a  land  of  horrors  she  eastward  turns  her  face, 
To  view  on  sacred  coteau  the  cal-u-met  smoked  again 
In  happy  homes  of  comfort,  'mid  golden  fields  of  grain. 


THE    CAL-U-MET  OF   THE   COTEAU.  39 

The  dwellers  there  a  people,  though  pale-face  to  the  view, 
In  love  and  kindness  living,  oh,  cheering  vision  new ! 
High  soaring,  long  she  views  them  :   "  oh,  happy  people 

blest, 

Who  mingle  love  and  valor,  anew  I'll  build  my  nest, 
And  in  memory  of  War-Eagle,  as  in  the  days  of  old, 
Ere  by  Wa-kan-sche-cha  captured  and  to  the  Long-Knife 

sold, 

36  On  the  banners  of  this  people  let  his  pinions  soar  above 
With  my  maiden's  cap  of  Justice,  of  Liberty,  and  Love  !" 


"THE   GOBLIN-LAND. 

OH,  know  ye  the  legend,  when  waves  of  the  sea 
Deep  rolled  o'er  the  summits  of  mountains  to  be, 
Which  slowly  but  surely  upheaved  from  below, 
Rose  taller  and  broader,  till  crested  with  snow, 
And  bubble-like  bursting  in  throes  to  go  higher, 
Were  sheeted  in  lava,  in  sulphur  and  fire? 
And  fierce  was  the  conflict,  and  fearful  the  roar 
Of  cold  lashing  surf  on  a  seething  hot  shore, 
Charge  of  seas  on  a  land  they  should  swallow  no  more. 

Long,  long  roll  the  ages,  and  cold  the  cliffs  grow, 
Cloud-hidden  their  summits,  grove-dotted  below ; 
Wear  prairies  and  coteaus  bright  carpets  of  green, 
And  streamlets  enchanting  meander  between  ; 
And  forests  majestic,  and  vine-trellised  bowers, 
Fringe  glens  as  of  Eden,  all  brilliant  with  flowers, 
With  roses  and  daisies,  and  pale  elenore, 
Whose  nectar  the  honey-bees  gather  in  store 
For  banquets  of  gods  when  the  summer  is  o'er. 

There  finny  forms  sparkle  like  gems  in  the  rills, 
And  elk  with  broad  antlers  proud  stalk  o'er  the  hills; 
The  goat  and  the  big-horn  high  trail  in  the  snow, 
The  deer  and  the  bison  in  green  vales  below  ; 
28  The  black  eagle  soars  round  the  pinnacle  high 
Till  a  wild  lamb  perceiving,  as  a  bolt  from  the  sky, 
In  his  talons  quick  bears  him  for  a  feast  in  the  glade, 
40 


THE    GOBLIN-LAND.  4I 

Near  the  lion  low  crouching,  whose  dinner  is  made 
Of  victor  and  victim,  in  tanglewood  shade. 

In  broad  slimy  marshes  leviathans  roar, 

And  mermaids  are  combing  their  locks  by  the  shore ; 

Full  deep  in  green  waters  the  coral  reefs  form, 

Till  palm-shaded  islets  defy  the  wild  storm ; 

And  sharks,  ever  famished  and  eager  for  prey, 

Devour  with  their  victims  the  monsters  who  slay ; 

While  o'er  the  broad  ocean  the  albatross  sails, 

'Mid  porpoise  and  dolphins  and  loud-spouting  whales, 

And  sea-birds,  foam-skimming,  exult  in  the  gales. 

29  Then  man,  hairy  giant,  strode  forth  in  his  might, 

Erect  like  his  Maker,  with  knowledge  of  right ; 

Inventor  of  weapons,  first  builder  of  fire, 

Lone  trader  of  trophies,  with  soul  to  soar  higher ; 

Loin-girded,  else  naked,  majestic  in  form, 

With  mate  and  their  offspring  cave-sheltered  from  storm; 

Terrific  his  combats  with  lion  and  bear, 

For  food  and  for  shelter,  in  glen  or  in  lair ; 

But  tusk,  claw,  and  talons,  and  instincts  are  vain 

'Gainst  man  and  his  weapons,  on  ocean  or  plain  ; 

For  man,  as  his  birthright,  was  destined  to  reign. 

Ages  on  ages  have  circled  and  fled, 

And  countless  the  heroes  who  sleep  with  the  dead ; 

Earth  teems  with  the  millions  unnumbered  of  men  ; 

Fish,  beasts,  birds,  and  reptiles  crowd  sea,  sky,  and  glen ; 

But  man  is  polluted,  and  woman  is  vile, 

With  beasts,  birds,  and  serpents  commingling  in  guile  ; 

And  monsters  all  hideous,  in  form  and  in  lust, 

Stalk  forth  in  the  forests,  or  crawl  in  the  dust,— 

Earth  is  ripe  for  God's  vengeance  of  fire  'neath  its  crust, 


42  THE    GOBLIN-LAND. 

As  evening's  low  murmurs  from  storm-cloud  afar 

Grow  louder,  till  thunder  the  heavens  ajar, 

So  meanings,  half-smothered,  in  womb  of  the  Earth, 

In  wailing  and  trembling,  like  travail  of  birth, 

Grow  louder  and  fiercer,  till  the  thin  crust  is  rent, 

And  lava  all  seething  in  billows  finds  vent. 

In  vain  guilty  mortals  their  revels  bewail ; 

Too  late, — prayers  for  mercy  are  waft  on  the  gale ; 

Unheeded  the  howling  of  monsters  in  pain  ; 

God's  vengeance,  outpouring,  rolls  over  the  plain  ! 

Like  harlots  of  Sodom,  all  revelled  in  sin, 

Gomorrahs  of  brimstone  are  walling  them  in  ; 

Commingled  in  matrix  of  slime,  which  encase 

30  Men,    mermaids,    and   monsters,    each   sphinx-like    in 

place, 
And  mountains  hurled  o'er  them,  from  Heaven  hides 

trace. 

Unnumbered  the  circles  of  sun  and  of  stars; 
Terrific  the  earthquakes,  and  fearful  their  scars ; 
And  tempests,  fierce  howling,  of  hail  and  of  snow, 
And  frosts,  all  eroding,  hurl  fragments  below, 
Unearthing  each  monster,  each  reptile  and  beast, 
Nude  vixen  and  warrior  gigantic,  at  feast, 
Where  guests  are  stone-visaged,  all  lifeless  and  cold; 
Side-dishes,  shell-fossils,  as  glistening  as  gold, 
And  viands,  charred  remnants  of  comrades  of  old. 

Still  deeper  eroded  the  labyrinths  grow, 

And  taller  the  Goblins,  with  helmets  of  sno'w. 

Proud  o'er  them  the  eagle,  with  undazzled  eye, 

Scans  sheep  on  the  snow-fields,  then  swoops  from  the  sky; 

The  goat  and  the  big-horn  there  covert  oft  finds 

in  archways  of  grottos,  where  the  moaning  of  winds 


THE   GOBLIN    LABYRINTHS. 


44  THE    GOBLIN-LAND. 

Are  requiems  chanting,  sharp,  changing,  and  low, 
Of  Koodoos  unearthly  'mid  the  lava's  o'erflow. 
31  And  men  of  the  mountains,  of  Sheep-Eater  band, 
Of  game  and  of  plunder  make  sacrifice  grand 
To  monster  stone-gods  in  the  weird  "Goblin-Land." 


THE   MYSTIC   LAKE   OF   WONDER-LAND. 

I  SING  of  lake,  of  rippling  rills, 
Of  sunny  streams  from  snowy  hills ; 
Of  hissing  pools  with  sulphur  tide, 
In  gulches  deeper  far  than  wide ; 
Of  foaming  falls  in  canon  grand, 
The  Mystic  Lake  of  Wonder-Land. 

For  here,  begirt  with  mountain-chains, 
Snow-clad  mist-clouds  hide  grassy  plains; 
'Mid  terraced  slopes,  pine-clad  and  green, 
Reflected  bright  on  emerald  sheen, 
Of  bosom  thine,  'neath  turret  high, 
Bright-blending  water,  earth,  and  sky. 

Thus  seen  in  quiet  summer's  eve, 
Eden  it  seems  with  naught  to  grieve ; 
But  howling  storms  and  piercing  wails 
Come  with  autumnal  frosts  and  gales ; 
32  And  chilling  blasts  resistless  come 
Adown  thy  fingers,  palm,  and  thumb. 

Oh,  have  I  not  in  trying  hour, 
In  craft  too  frail  bewailed  thy  power? 
With  bending  mast  and  rending  sail, 
And  dashing  wave  o'er  icy  rail, 
And  foaming  surf  on  rocky  strand, 
To  shores  of  ice  on  mystic  hand  ? 

45 


46        THE   MYSTIC  LAKE    OF   WONDER-LAND. 

Oh,  night  of  horrors  !  on  that  shore, 

When  fire  and  surf  discordant  roar, 

And  timber,  tempest-reft  and  rove, 

Hurled  all  ablaze  up  terraced  grove, 

And  sparks,  and  snow,  and  smoke,  and  sleet 

In  angry  circles  waltzing  meet, 

33  No  tent  can  stand,  no  blanket  save 
From  biting  blasts  that  round  us  rave ; 
With  sleepless  eyes,  compelled  to  turn,— 
One  side  to  freeze,  the  other  burn, — 
We  sigh  for  prayers  of  friends  afar, 
And  long  for  laggard  morning-star. 

The  storm  is  past,  and  azure  skies 
The  orb  of  morn  greet  at  its  rise ; 
Soon  warming  rays  dispel  the  gloom 
That  o'er  our  senses  hung  like  doom, 
And  joyous  hopes  and  buoyant  tread 
Gild  halos  bright  o'er  horrors  fled. 

Meanwhile,  at  dawn,  on  sullen  shore, 
With  gravel  filled  and  frozen  o'er, 
Our  bark  we  found  thus  saved  from  wreck, 
Keel-crushed,  but  firm  her  sides  and  deck ; 
And  quick,  with  tools  and  comrades  true, 
In  surf  the  frozen  cobbles  threw. 

Her  hold  we  bailed  with  battered  pail, 
Her  keel  repaired,  unfurled  her  sail ; 
Our  light  stores  shipped  and  rifles  true, 
Our  rations  short,  and  daring  crew : 
And,  thankful  for  such  lovely  day, 
With  gentle  breeze  sailed  up  the  bay. 


THE  MYSTIC  LAKE    OF    WONDER-LAND.        47 

But  time  were  short  to  here  relate 
Our  voyage  o'er  finger,  thumb,  or  strait ; 
Round  charming  isle,  o'er  mystic  hand, 
To  Indian  cove,  and  thankful  land, — 
Then  once  again  our  steeds  bestride, 
And  proudly  o'er  the  meadows  ride. 

And  here  by  lonely  rill  I  find — 

Sad  trace  of  race  to  pale-face  kind, 

But  feeble,  few,  and  shy  of  men — 

A  wick-e-up  of  brush  in  glen, 

And  (blanket-robed  for  want  of  grave), 

Last  of  his  band,  "Sheep-Eater"  brave. 

And  now  I  pause  and  sadly  think 
Of  cruel  scenes  ne'er  traced  in  ink ; 
Of  kindly  words  and  acts  of  those 
We  curse  and  treat  as  savage  foes, 

34  Yet  practice  crimes  that  dark  disgrace 
Our  Christian  creed  and  bearded  race. 

Thus  pensive,  wandering  o'er  the  strand, 

35  Vases  and  urns  from  nature's  hand, 
Saucers  and  cups  from  hidden  graves, 
I  see  come  rolling  with  the  waves, 
And  marvel  how  a  cause  unknown 
Could  fashion  neat  such  forms  of  stone ! 

Again,  I  view  along  the  shore 
Hot  rills  from  hissing  geysers  pour, 

36  And  finny  forms  beneath  the  wave 
For  angler's  bait  hot  current  brave, 
To  find,  alas  !  like  human  fool, 

A  barb  concealed  and  seething  pool. 


48         THE  MYSTIC  LAKE    OF   WONDER-LAND. 

Again,  a  rill  from  melting  snows 
Adown  thy  turfy  terrace  flows, 
To  foam  in  sulphur  pool  as  hot 
As  Sodom's  slime  in  days  of  Lot ! 

37  And  thence  from  nauseous  hissing  rill 
Sweet  flow'ry  vale  with  poisons  fill. 

38  And  islands  thine,  rock-ribbed  and  high, 
With  snowy  crests  amid  the  sky : 
Inverted,  mirrored  'neath  the  waves, 
Seem  isles  to  greet  'mid  islands'  graves; 
And  sylvan  forms  in  fossil  groves, 

With  vanished  friends  renew  their  loves. 

Amid  the  mists  of  years  to  come, 
With  bunting,  viol,  harp,  and  drum, 
Shall  steamer  proudly  on  her  way, 
Or  safely  moored  in  cove  or  bay, 
Bear  artist,  poet,  priest,  and  seer, 
And  ladies,  ever  smiling  near. 

And  will  they  know  or  care  for  those 

Who  coasted  capes  through  mists  and  snows? 

Or  pressed  proud  mountain-peaks  to  scale, 

In  summer  storms  or  winter's  gale? 

And  unknown  islands  wisely  chose 

As  safe  retreat  from  savage  foes  ? 

And  oft,  perchance,  on  island  here, 
With  panther's  tread  pursued  the  deer 
Or  big-horn  on  the  crests  of  snow, 
Or  grizzlies  in  the  glens  below, — 
»  For  food  their  flesh,  for  hunting-shirt, 
Their  vacant  coat  with  belt  begirt? 


THE  MYSTIC  LAKE    OF   WONDER-LAND.        49 

And  will  they  dream  that  garb  so  wild 
Screened  men  of  worth,  refined  and  mild  ? 
With  sense  to  feel,  with  souls  to  love, 
A  lion's  courage,  hearts  of  dove, 
Whose  plans  of  life,  if  understood, 
Were  "  suffer  self  for  others'  good"  ? 

My  voyage  is  o'er,  its  duties  done, 
This  crystal  shore  my  praise  has  won  ; 
In  other  lands  be  mine  to  meet 
Such  golden  sands  and  islands  sweet, 
And  free  from  pelting  storms  of  snow, 
Ne'er  scorching  pits  of  sulphur  know  ! 
A  long  farewell, — I  leave  thy  strand, — 
Oh,  "Mystic  Lake"  of  "Wonder-Land!" 


THE   FAITHFUL   LOVERS. 

IN  a  smiling  eastern  valley,  where  the  zephyrs  dance  and 

dally, 
Dwelt  a  maiden  fair  and  blooming,  and  a  yeoman  tall 

and  bold  ; 
Tender  were  the  tears  of  parting  of  these  lovers  at  his 

starting 
O'er  the  prairies  and  the  coteaus,  in  his  pilgrimage  for 

gold. 

For  she  dwells  in  halls  of  splendor,  where  the  heirs  of 

wealth  attend  her, 
And   her  mother,   sire,   and  brother   seek  with  them 

alliance  grand  ; 
But  her  plighted  troth  is  given,  pure,  and  registered  in 

heaven, 
That  her  lover,  heir  of  labor,  she'll  await  from  golden 

land. 

"Love,"  he  lisps,  with  eyelids  quivering,   "cease,  oh, 

cease  thy  fears  and  grieving ; 
Hope  will  sweeten   toil  and  danger  of  thy  lover  far 

away ; 
Who,  with  glittering  gems  the  rarest,  and  of  mountain 

flowers  the  fairest, 

Bright  will  render  this  thy  chamber,  as  for  him  thou 
kneel'st  to  pray." 
5° 


THE   FAITHFUL   LOVERS.  5I 

In   a  vale  of  crystal   fountains,  deep   amid    the    snowy 

mountains, 
Dwelt  this  toiler  of  the  placer  and  this  trailer  of  the 

deer; 
And,  although  the  painted  savage  ever  lurked  to  slay  and 

ravage, 

Still   this  ranger  braved   the  danger  with  a  soul   that 
scoffed  at  fear. 

For  the  mountain  zephyrs  laden  whisper  cheering  words 

of  maiden  : 
"In  my  bosom  ever  loving  dwell  thy  gems,  and  in  my 

hair 
Cluster   wreaths   of    brilliant    flowers,    gathered    in    thy 

mountain  bowers, 

And  at  even  soars  to  heaven,  for   thy  safety,  fervent 
prayer. ' ' 

Yet  the  wintry  storms  are  dreary,  and  the  trusting  heart 

grows  weary, 
When  in  waning  moons  no  tidings  thrill  that  loving 

breast  so  pure ; 
And  within  her  home  of  splendor  pride  and  fashion  still 

attend  her, 

And  a  courtly  suitor  wealthy  seeks  that  love-lorn  heart 
to  cure. 

Then  from  far-off  lands  came  tidings  of  terrific  war  and 

fightings, 
By  the  fountains  of  the  mountains,  where  the  daring 

miners  dwell ; 
Doleful  dark-line  pages  filling  scenes  of  death  and  valor 

thrilling, 

And  a  yeoman,  slaughtering  foeman,  last  and  noblest 
of  them,  fell. 


52  THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS. 

Not   in  words  untimely  spoken,  but  with   loving  heart 
strings  broken, 

Pales  the  maiden's  cheeks  so  blooming,  and  in  ago 
nizing  moan, 
Heeding  not  the  guests  of  splendor,   nor  her  friends' 

consolings  tender, 

Faintly   throbbing,  sinking   sobbing,  bursts    her   cry, 
"Alone!  alone!" 

Days   are  come  and   nights   are  banished,   moons  have 

waxed,  and  waned,  and  vanished, 
When  a  spectre  from  that  chamber,  pale  and  trembling, 

thin  and  wan, 

On  the  arm  of  loving  mother,  and  beside  a  tender  brother, 
Slow,  but  eager,  seeks  the  parlor,  all  to  greet  her  lover 
gone. 

"Comes  he  not?"  she  sighs  in  anguish;   "for  his  greet 
ing  clasp  I  languish." 
"  Oh,  my  Charlie,  waits  your  Laurie,  with  the  gems 

you  sent  afar. 
Dwell    you   still   beside  the   fountains,  toiling  'mid   the 

snowy  mountains? 

Here  I'll  meet  you,  soon  I'll  greet  you,  or  I'll  wander 
where  you  are." 

"Lost  were  all  their  arts  of  cheering,  kindly  words  and 

acts  endearing ; 
Only  lover,  daring  rover,  would  her  wandering  dreams 

reveal ; 
All  his  bold,  unselfish  daring,  all  its  fruits  with  Laurie 

sharing, 

And  her  cheering  his  appearing,  could  her  clouded 
senses  feel. 


THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS.  ^ 

Fades  the  fever,  slowly  burning,  tinged  the  cheek  with 

health  returning, 
And  her  vision,  conquering  reason,  on  its  throne  is 

crowned  again  ; 
When  the  vesper  chimes  are  pealing,  faintly  through  the 

twilight  stealing, 
Came  the  story  and  the  glory  of  her  daring  lover  slain. 

Slowly  rallying,  health  regaining,  soon,  alas  !  with  hectic 
waning, 

Prove  the  riven  dart  was  driven  to  its  feather  in  her 
soul ; 

And  the  flickering  hope  remaining  of  its  earthly  hope 
retaining 

Was  a  journey  to  some  valley  where  the  western  billows 
roll. 

Needless  tale  of  preparation,  nameless  vale  of  destination, 
Faithful  brother,  would-be  lover,  press  their  wealth  and 

tenderest  care ; 
Zephyrs   from   the    prairie    blooming,    lake   of   brine   or 

mountain  looming, 

Hope  sustaining,   health   regaining,   till   they  reach   a 
valley  fair. 

By  a  rill  at  eve  reclining,   'neath   the   blooming  roses 

twining, 
Lowly  kneeling,  love  appealing,  comes  the  youth,  the 

brother's  friend. 
"Hist!"  she  cries,  -these  stars  in  heaven  witnessed  my 

betrothal  given ; 

Only  Charlie  will  I  marry,  till  life's  pilgrimage  shall 
end." 


54  THE   FAITHFUL   LOVERS. 

Vain  his  tears,  his  prayers  and  sighing;  few,  but  firm, 

her  words  replying : 
"While  on  earth,  or  yet  in  heaven,  his  alone  my  life 

remains." 
Rifles  ringing,  bullets  singing,  sudden  death  and  terror 

bringing ; 

Lover    foiling — sight    appalling !— spouting    gore   her 
beauty  stains. 

Shrill  the  war-whoop  thrills  the  valley;  sharp  the  escort's 

answering  rally ; 
Steeds  are   dashing,  sabres  flashing,  friends  and  foes 

commingled  fall ; 
Lasso  whirling,  cruel  slaying,  blood-streams  o'er  the  roses 

playing,— 

Daring  brother,  wounded  lover,  cheer  the  remnants, 
few  and  small. 

Hand   to  hand  they  thrust  and  parry,  and  the  fainting 

maiden  carry 

To  adobe  hovel  lowly ;  but  the  foe  is  there  before. 
Soon  the  swinging  hatchet  reeking,  gleaming  knife  the 

trophies  seeking, 

Demon  yelling,  scalp-whoop  swelling,  witness  grim  the 
fight  is  o'er. 

Hark  !  as  swoop  of  eagles  screaming,  dashing  steeds  and 

sabres  gleaming, 
"  Rally  !  rally  !"  shouts  in  valley,  down  the  savage  ride 

and  thrust ; 
First  a  plumed  and  stalwart  ranger,   charging  grandly, 

scorning  danger, 

Warriors  meeting,  chieftain  seeking,  plume  and  bonnet 
kiss  the  dust. 


THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS.  55 

Savage,   ere   his   safety  seeking,   carves    from   slain    the 

trophy  reeking ; 
Gory  chieftain,  clasping  maiden, — "Mine,"  he  cries, 

"  this  golden  hair  !" 
Hatchet  arm  by  blade  is  riven,  and  in  breast  to  hilt  is 

driven, 

By  the  stranger  belted  ranger,  whose  arm  sustains  the 
sinking  fair. 


Heeds  he  not  the  dying  rattle,  savage  chief,  or  shout  of 

battle, 
Only  seeing  maiden  clinging  to  his  breast  for  refuge 

given. 
Beaming  eyes  again  are  meeting,  loving  lips  again  are 

greeting, — 

"Oh,    my    Charlie!" — "Darling    Laurie!" — met    on 
earth  instead  of  heaven. 


Oh,  that  stalwart  brave  is  quivering,  and  in  Laurie's  arms 

is  sinking, 
For  an   arrow  to  its    feather,   vile,   has   pierced    that 

manly  form. 
"Laurie,  love,  we've  met  and  parted,"  faint  he  whispers; 

broken-hearted, 

Courage-nerving,    maiden    loving     stanches    crimson 
spouting  warm. 


Painted  brave,  from  hidden  cover,  leaps  to  slay  the  sink 
ing  lover  ; 

All  in  horror,  as  the  warrior  comes,  with  bright  and 
deadly  blade, 


5  6  THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS. 

In  her  robes  of  maiden,  loving,  glares  she  as  a  warrior 

daring; 

On  he  dashes — pistol  flashes — chieftain  at  her  feet  is 
laid! 


*~<^^*»*!kmiam^» 


THE   DARING   MAIDEN. 

Quick  she  rends  the  shirt  of  leather,  quick  withdraws  the 

cruel  feather, — 
"  Tis  your  Laurie,  oh,  my  Charlie!" — on  his  lips  her 

kisses  pours  ; 
Then   with   silken   bandage   holy,  through   the  rents  of 

buckskin  lowly, 

Checks  the  ebbing  tide  of  crimson,  and   the  sinking 
life  restores. 


THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS.  57 

When  the  bloody  fray  was  over,  and  the  dead  they  needs 

must  cover, 
Found  the  brother  dead,  but  lover,  scalped  and  gory, 

lingering  still : 

"  Die  I  cannot  ere  confessing  crime  my  guilty  soul  dis 
tressing, — 

Listen,  Charlie!  pardon,  Laurie!"   thus  his  moaning 
accents  thrill. 

"Laurie,  when   I  watched   thy  chamber,  missive  came 

from  mountain  ranger; 
I,  in  envy,  love,  and  frenzy,  took  and  bore  it  to  my 

room ; 
Well  I  knew  the  manly  writing  proof  he  lived,  and  hence 

the  blighting 

Of  my  planning,  guile,  and   cunning,  and  defeat  my 
certain  doom. 

"  Villain  !  then  I  read  the  story  of  his  daring  deeds  and 

glory  : 
How  the  savage  slay  and  ravage,  how  from  gaping 

wounds  he  fell ; 

But  amidst  the  yells  appalling  he  escaped  by  crafty  crawl 
ing; 

Hence  these  thrilling  pages  filling  to  the  maiden  loved 
so  well. 

"Then  with  love  and  envy  swelling,  perjured  soul  to 

Satan  selling, 
I  as  brother  kind  and  tender  told  in  strains  of  fondest 

love 
Tale   of  sickness  short  and  trying,   Laurie's   love,  and 

peaceful  dying, 

And  to  lover  message  tender  that  in  bliss  they'd  meet 
above. 


58  THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS. 

"  From   that   hour  I  writhed  in   torture,  with  grinning 

fiends  will  be  my  future, 
Un forgiven,  cursed  of  heaven  !"  words  his  last  amidst 

his  groans  ; 
Startled  lovers,  backward  scanning,  see  the  web  of  demons 

planning, 

And,  forgiving,  leave  the  erring  with  the  God  who  sin 
atones. 

Days  have  come  and  weeks  are  ended,  moons  have  waned 

and  years  have  blended  ; 
In  a  valley  pilgrims  dally,  'mid  the  field  of  love  and 

gore, 
On  a  marble  shaft  ascending  names  of  fallen  ones  are 

blending; 

Fading   echoes    from    the    vespers    thrill    the    tendrils 
twining  o'er. 

And  a  stately  mansion    looming,  in   that  vale  of  roses 

blooming, 
Chariots    mowing,    vintage    flowing,    o'er    uncounted 

leagues  of  land, 
While  a  matron  bland  and  comely,  and  a  statesman  grand 

and  courtly, 

With    their   children    tall   and    blooming,  greet    their 
guests  with  welcome  grand. 

Painting,  bright  as  wealth  can   render,  portray  in   that 

hall  of  splendor 
Belted  yeoman  facing  foeman,  hatchet  raised  in  deadly 

strife  ; 
Tall  and  lovely  maiden  clinging,  'neath  a  reeking  hatchet 

swinging 

O'er   her  brother,  to  her  lover   Heaven's   vengeance 
guides  his  knife  ! 


THE  FAITHFUL   LOVERS,  ^ 

And  upon  the  lofty  ceiling,  painted  with  historic  feeling, 
Gory  chieftain,  lovely  maiden,  wounded   ranger  faint 

between 
Chief,  from  pistol-muzzle  reeling,  maiden  o'er  her  lover 

kneeling, 

Crimson  stanching,  without  blanching,  real  as  in  life 
are  seen. 


GALLANT   CHARLEY   REYNOLDS. 

40  ONCE  the  chosen  scout  of  Stanley, 

Often  Ludlow's  mountain  guide, 
Then  with  me  erst  true  and  manly, — 

Thou  who  with  our  Custer  died  ! 
Over  all  the  Big-horn  Mountains, 

And  beside  the  coteau's  cone, 
'Mid  Missouri's  geyser  fountains, 

And  along  the  Yellowstone. 

Kind  and  cheerful  was  thy  bearing, 

Firm  and  martial  was  thy  tread ; 
First  amongst  the  brave  and  daring 

Art  thou  numbered  with  the  dead. 
Bravely  thou,  with  Reno  valiant, 

And  with  crafty  Bloody-Knife, 
In  the  front  of  charge  most  gallant, 

O'er  the  ford  of  bloody  strife. 

Fearless  when  thy  steed  was  falling, 

Hatchet  hewn,  and  pierced  by  lance ; 
'Mid  the  flood  and  foe  appalling, 

Demon-like  was  thy  advance  ! 
Pistol  puff  and  ring  of  rifle, 

Flashing  knife  and  hatchet  gleam  ; 
Reeking  scalp  and  sinking  stifle, 

Dying  yell  in  dashing  stream  ! 
60 


GALLANT  CHARLEY  REYNOLDS.  6 1 

Ghastly  strewing  fast  around  thee 

Painted  braves  and  plumes  of  those 
Thy  carbine  slaughtered,  still  surround  thee 

Circling  hordes  of  yelling  foes. 
All  in  vain  were  deeds  of  daring, 

All  too  swift  and  sad  thy  doom  ! 
Earth's  last  view  was  savage  glaring, — 

The  encrimsoned  stream  thy  tomb  ! 


Stricken  in  thy  youth  and  beauty, 

Sadly  stricken  ere  thy  prime ; 
Fallen  at  the  ford  of  duty, 

Lo  !  an  honored  name  is  thine  ! 
Charley  !  may  the  foe  who  slew  thee 

Ever  bear  a  tainted  name  ! 
Reynolds  !  all  the  friends  who  knew  thee 

Shall  award  thee  lofty  fame  ! 


Peaceful  home  has  me  delivered 

From  the  fate  that  war  attends ; 
Desert  flowers  have  bloomed  and  withered 

O'er  the  bones  of  mountain  friends- 
Sternly  fate— not  of  our  choosing — 

Severs  us  forever  here  ; 
Sadly  thus,  with  memory  musing, 

Darkly  fades  the  fated  year ! 


Other  friends  along  that  river 
Fought  and  fell  to  rise  no  more, 

Yielding  their  souls  to  God,  the  Giver, 
When  the  deadly  strife  was  o'er ; 
6 


62  GALLANT  CHARLEY  REYNOLDS. 

When  along  the  Yellowstone 
Peace  and  happiness  shall  reign 

O'er  gory  fields  both  lost  and  won, 
None  shall  say  they  died  in  vain. 

Can  daring  deeds  of  human  hand 

Save  the  soul  beyond  the  grave  ? 
And  are  there  in  that  spirit-land 

Mansions  for  the  true  and  brave? 
Oh,  God  of  justice,  but  of  love, 

Judge  them  by  their  deeds  and  light ! 
And  in  thy  blissful  home  above 

Grant  them  garlands  at  thy  right  1 


41  PILGRIMS   OF   THE   YELLOWSTONE. 

A  BAND  of  modern  pilgrims  went  prospecting  for  gold, 
And  rode  or  drove  their  horses  as  in  the  days  of  old ; 
The  Mississippi  and  Missouri  obstruct  their  path  in  vain, 
And  they  pioneer'd  the  railway  in  roving  o'er  the  plain. 

The  Platte  they  left  at  Laramie,  with  visions  bright  of 

mines 

Amid  the  Big-horn  Mountains  or  gulches  dark  with  pines, 
And  placers  in  the  canons,  or  charming  hills  and  dales, 
For  peaceful  homes  of  plenty  amid  the  fertile  vales. 

Then  'long  the  beauteous  coteau,  rolling  like  the  waves, 
'Mid  bison,  elk,  and  antelope,  and,  often,  Indian  braves; 
The  first  they  chased  to  slaughter,  the  latter  chased  to 

slay: 
Sometimes  they  were  pursuers,  but  oft  pursued  were  they. 

Through  ever-changing  fortune,  with  caution,  dash,  and 

arms, 
They  passed   the   Cactus  Desert  and  the  Indian's  fierce 

alarms ; 

Then  mountain  above  terrace  beside  their  trail  arose, — 
In  the  last  a  rocky  canon,  on  the  first  eternal  snows. 

Fountains,  bright   sunny  fountains,  dispel    their   thirsty 

fears  ; 
Mountains,  oh,  snowy  mountains,  loud   they  greet  with 

cheers ! 

63 


64  PILGRIMS   OF   THE    YELLOWSTONE. 

Time,  toil,  and  patience  conquer,  and  from  the  frozen 

crest, 
Deep  'mid  the  lava  mountains,  they  view  a  park  of  rest. 

Cedar-bordered  rivulets  descended  from  the  snow, 
Roamed  countless  on  the  pampas  the  shaggy  buffalo; 
O'er    all,   in    autumn's    beauty,   the    mellow   sunbeams 

shone, — 
A  matchless  vale  of  verdure  along  the  Yellowstone ! 

With  game-trout  teemed  the  waters,  all  bounteous  the 

soil, 

Gold-dust  in  the  placers,  awaiting  only  toil 
Of  famished  eastern  labor,  the  thrifty  and  the  bold, 
To  rear  their  rugged  cabins  and  garner  up  the  gold. 

Eager  ad  own  the  mountain,  lured  by  the  brilliant  sheen 
Of  gushing  valley-fountain,  begirt  with  emerald  green : 
"  Oh,  here's  the  happy  valley,  this  is  the  lovely  West ; 
Here  we  no  longer  dally,  but  build  us  homes  of  rest !" 

But  since  Adam  sinned  in  Eden,  and  Eve  to  hide  their 

shame 
Of  fig-leaves  made  them  aprons,  earth  has  ever  been  the 

same : 
The   vales   of  blooming  roses   are   beset  with   piercing 

thorns, 
And  death  is  ever  garnering  what  beauty  most  adorns. 

Thus  to  our  weary  pilgrims  peaceful  the  valley  seems : 
Glowing  are  their  camp-fires,  sweet  their  golden  dreams ; 
When  shrill  the  war-whoop  echoes  !  sharp  the  rifle  rings  ! 
Cruel  pierce  the  arrows,  high  the  hatchet  swings  ! 


PILGRIMS   OF   THE    YELLOWSTONE.  65 

Vainly  rouse  the  startled  sleepers  !  swift  a  circling  gleam 
Of  scalping-knife  descending,  and  then  the  dying  scream  ! 
Quick  wrenched  is  reeking  trophy, — soon  amid  the  gloom 
Coyote  fierce  and  famished  grant  the  gory  dead  a  tomb. 

From  that  sickening  scene  of  horror  one  alone  e'er  reached 

his  home, 
Thence  from  rural  peace  and  comfort  naught  again  can 

bid  him  roam ; 
'Mid  tales  of  gold  in  Black  Hills  or  along  the  Rosebud 

vale 
Ghosts  arise  of  friends  in  "  Bad  Lands,"  and  of  gore  along 

the  trail. 

Mothers  dear  and  sweethearts  loving  awaited  their  return 

in  vain  j 
Drear  the  homes  and  sad  the  kindred  they'll  revisit  ne'er 

again  ; 
Long  and  vain  for  absent  loved  ones  were  their  kindred's 

sighs  and  moans, — 
Painted    braves   and    dusky  maidens   alike   deride   their 

bleaching  bones. 

But  the  fearful  fate  of  Custer  on  the  fated  Little  Horn 
All  too  late  aroused  our  people  to  uproot  the  Rosebud 

thorn  ;* 
In  the  coming  tramps  and  battles  fallen  friends  shall  we 

bemoan, 
But  no   peace   shall  greet  the  Sioux  ere  they  leave  the 

Yellowstone. 


*  "  Rosebud  thorn,"  Sitting  Bull.  A  Rosebud,  or  Un-ca-pap-pa,  Sioux 
chief. 

e  6* 


66  PILGRIMS   OF  THE    YELLOWSTONE. 

Then  beside  the  desert  coteau  and  the  crimson  Little 
Horn, 

As  along  the  Mystic  River  of  the  spouting  geyser  born, 

Miners  wealth  in  peace  shall  gather  from  the  placer's 
golden  sand, 

Pilgrims  health  in  joy  shall  garner  in  the  lofty  "  Wonder- 
Land." 


CAPTIVE   MAIDEN. 

18  RISE,  my  muse,  sing  of  a  maiden 

Captive  on  the  coteau  wild ; 
Not  with  golden  ringlets  laden, 
But  tresses  raven,  Nature's  child. 

From  the  camp  of  slaughtered  Cheyenne, 
Near  the  crimson  Custer  plain, 

Rode  she  to  the  border  stockade, 
Weeping  in  the  captive  train. 

Long  she  looked  and  sighed  for  lover, 
Chieftain  of  a  mountain  band, 

First  in  fight,  and  last  to  hover 
On  trail  of  foe  in  native  land. 

But  her  longing  eyes  grew  weary, 
And  her  loving  heart  grew  faint, 

In  a  prison,  chill  and  dreary, 
Child  of  freedom  in  restraint. 

When  her  kindred  yield  to  capture, 
Weary  of  the  scourge  of  war, 

Glows  her  cheek  and  form  with  rapture 
At  chieftain's  totem  from  afar. 

67 


68  CAPTIVE  MAIDEN. 

Proud  he  stood  amid  the  warriors, 

In  the  glare  of  council  fire ; 
"First,"  quoth  he,  "  release  my  maiden, 

Or  you  shall  feel  my  ire. 

"  I,  of  mountain  clan  the  chieftain, 

I  in  freedom  chose  a  mate : 
Only  free  she'll  wed  War-Eagle, 

Be  it  life  or  death,  my  fate." 

"  Trail  your  totem,  yield  your  pinto, 

Quick  disarm  your  warriors  all ; 
"  Mine  be  teepee,"  says  the  pale-face, 
"  And  upon  our  mercy  call." 

"This,"  quoth  the  chief,  "to  me,  a  warrior? 

I  disarm  ? — be  squaw  and  slave  ?— 
Teepee  for  friend,  for  foeman  hatchet,— 

From  his  war-horse  dies  the  brave." 

War-whoop  shrill,  and  mounted  warriors, 
Lance  and  plume,  bedeck  the  plain  ; 

Fierce  the  onset,  long  the  struggle, 
The  maid  to  save, — alas  !   in  vain. 

Saw  the  morning  carnage  ghastly, — 

Gory  harvest  on  the  plain ; 
Blanket-strewed  and  bullet-furrowed, 

Desert  moistened,  not  by  rain. 

Gone  the  chieftain,  gone  the  remnant 
Of  his  warriors,  faint  and  few ; 

In  court  of  prison  slept  the  maiden, — 
Moist  her  tresses,  not  with  dew. 


CAPTIVE  MAIDEN.  69 

Vain  had  been  her  pray'r  for  freedom ; 

Guard  and  bay 'net  barr'd  the  door : 
"  This  will  open  gate  to  prison, — 

Moulder  clay  and  spirit  soar." 

Thus  she  speaks  ;  then,  tall  and  stately, 

Bares  her  bosom,  looks  above  : 
"  God  of  red -man, — oh,  Man-i-tou  ! 

Thus  I  come,  a  bride  of  love." 

Quick  as  swoop  of  mountain-eagle 
Heart  is  pierced  by  blade  in  hand ; 

Marks  the  rill  of  gushing  crimson, 
Freedom's  trail  to  Spirit-land. 


THE    WONDER-LAND. 

Ho,  ye  pilgrims,  seeking  pleasure, 

Or  for  health  in  vain, 
Listen  to  me,  while  I  truly 

Tell  where  both  to  gain. 

Chorus. 

'Mid  encircling  snowy  mountains, 

Falls  and  canons  grand, 
Bathing-pools  and  spouting  fountains, 

Of  the  "  Wonder-Land." 

There,  enraptured,  have  I  wandered 
Through  the  glades  and  dells, 

Where  the  big-horn,  elk,  and  beaver 
Each  in  freedom  dwells. 

Where  the  azure  pools  of  healing 

Terrace  from  the  snow, 
Like  a  glist'ning  cascade  frozen, 

To  the  glens  below. 

Where  the  spray  from  spouting  fountains 

Forms  a  halo  crest, 
Looming  up  the  snowy  mountains 

Rainbows  where  they  rest. 
70 


THE    WONDER-LAND. 

Where  the  halo's  quivering  shadows, 

O'er  the  Triple  Falls, 
Tint  the  cafion,  where  wild  waters 

Echo  'long  its  walls. 

Where  the  swan  with  snowy  plumage, 

Brant,  and  crested  drake, 
O'er  the  yellow  trout  and  speckled, 

Skim  the  crystal  lake. 

Where  the  screams  of  mountain-lion 

Pierce  the  midnight  air, 
Like  the  fabled  Indian  warrior 

Wailing  in  despair. 

Where  the  moose  and  curly  bison, 

Monarchs  of  the  glades, 
Like  the  mammoth  loom  in  roaming 

'Mid  the  twilight  shade. 

Where  the  ancient  forests  vernal, 

Now  in  lava  cased, 
Matchless  opal,  crystal  caskets, 

Ruthless  are  defaced. 

Where  thin-crusted  earth  seems  bending 

From  the  fires  below, 
Threat'ning,  as  of  old,  the  rending 

And  lava  overflow. 

Where  the  bowers  of  Eden,  blooming 

'Mid  the  glens  of  earth, 
Nestle,  'neath  fierce  tempests  howling, 

Like  creation's  birth. 


72  THE    WONDER-LAND. 

Where  on  earth  are  matchless  blended 
Vernal  flowers  and  snow, 

Eden  glens  and  dens  of  sulphur, 
Elysium  and  woe. 

43  Oh,  for  wisdom  in  the  councils 

Of  our  nation  great, 
To  protect  these  matchless  wonders 
From  a  ruthless  fate  ! 


BOLD   HERO   OF   THE   BORDER. 
(GEN.  NELSON  D.  MILES.) 

BORN  in  the  land  of  Pilgrims,  beside  its  granite  shore, 
Thy  lullaby  of  freedom  the  waves  unfettered  roar, 
And,  rearing  as  a  yeoman,  amid  its  Northern  vales, 
Thy  heart  defends  thy  country  when  Southern  foe  assails ; 
And  youthful   form  waxed  stalwart  thy  trusty  sword  to 

wield, 

In  craggy  pass  of  mountain  or  crimson  sulphur  field, 
Till  loyal  hosts  in  triumph  forced  treason's  clans  to  yield. 

On  furlough  brief  from  battle,  thy  eager  soul  did  burn 
To  abler  serve  thy  country  and  worthy  laurels  earn ; 
Then  o'er  the  distant  prairies  and  sterile  thorny  plains, 
Amid  the  rolling  coteau  the  Mystic  River  drains, 
The  wild  terrific  gulches  and  snowy  mountain-crest, 
The  war-trail  of  the  savage  thy  daring  footsteps  pressed, 
Bold  hero  of  the  border,  by  all  its  people  blest. 

The  bold  Nez-Perce  chieftain,  from  valley  of  the  West, 
Descending  to  the  coteau  from  snowy  mountain-crest, 
Safe  crossed  the  Mystic  River,  and  then  Missouri's  wave, 
The  matchless  mountain  trailer,  bold  leader  of  the  brave, 
44  In  lair  of  hidden  gulches,  in  Bear's-Paw  Mountain  wilds, 
.On  Crow  and  Ree  and  Sturgis  in  proud  derision  smiles, 
Yet  found  on  trail  to  Britain  just  one  too  many  "  Miles." 

For  then  by  matchless  marching  o'er  desert  pass  and  plain, 
And  floods  of  mighty  rivers  which  snowy  mountains  drain, 
D  7  73 


74  BOLD   HERO    OF    THE   BORDER. 

Like  phalanx  of  the  Grecian,  thou  led'st  thy  vet 'ran  band, 
Where  conflicts  are  decided  in  struggle  hand  to  hand  ; 
For  there  with  sword  and  hatchet  in  gulch  with  no  retreat, 
Each  with  a  worthy  foeman  who  never  knew  defeat, 
The  Che-nook  and  the  Eagle  in  final  conflict  meet. 

Each  with  a  prayer  for  loved  ones;  the  latter's  far  away,— 
The  first's  in  coule  hidden,  in  trembling  terror  lay, 
'Mid  deadly  ring  of  rifle  and  scorching  sulphur  smoke ; 
The  reeking  lance  and  hatchet  and  sword's  descending 

stroke, 

The  chieftain's  battle-rally  and  answering  Eagle's  scream, 
Commingled  coat  and  blanket  in  gushing  crimson  stream, 
Till  bright  through  storm  and  carnage  white  Che-nook 

flag  is  seen. 

45  Then  came  the  parley  herald,— no  servile  cringing  foe, 
But  chieftain  with  his  rifle,  the  victors'  terms  to  know, 
To  save  his  wife  and  children  and  remnant  of  his  band,— 
"Surrender!"  says  the  Eagle;  "these  warriors  understand 
The  mercy,  truth,  and  honor  I  tender  fallen  foe, 
Oft  taking  to  my  service  the  warriors  that  I  know  !" 
And  thus  the  tide  of  crimson  in  mercy  ceased  to  flow. 

And  now,  bold  border  chieftain,  pray  listen  to  a  friend, 
With  matchless  nerve  and  daring  may  thoughts  of  loved 

ones  blend  ? 
Thy  prudence,  skill,  and  courage  are  themes  of  praise  by 

all, 

And  needed  still  by  country.     Beside,  wert  thou  to  fall, 
No  laurel  wreath  of  vict'ry  could  cheer  thy  lonely  home, 
Hush  widow's  wails,  or  orphans',  in  this  cold  world  alone  ; 
More  cautious  prove,  O   chieftain  !    when  duty  calls  to 

roam. 


STALWART   YEOMAN. 

46  NOT  from  hall  of  the  Washburns, 

Who  so  long  have  honor'd  Maine, 
But  lowly  "  Buckeye"  cabin 

Our  stalwart  yeoman  came. 
Not  from  classic  Oberlin, 

Ever  in  freedom's  van, — 
Self-taught,  with  chain  and  compass, 

Wild  border-lines  he  ran, 
And  from  nature's  God  in  wildwood 

Well  learned  the  rights  of  man. 

Oh,  well  do  I  remember 

The  days  when  we  were  young, 
On  our  shoulders  trusty  rifles, 

And  from  belts  sharp  hatchets  hung. 
Such  training  made  us  soldiers 

In  freedom's  darkest  hour ; 
And  the  confidence  of  comrades, 

When  the  bloody  strife  was  o'er, 
Gave  him  the  seat  in  Congress 

Of  Dan  Voorhees— "Sycamore." 

From  the  halls  of  legislation,* 
When  our  duty  there  was  done, 

We  met  amid  the  mountains, 
Far  towards  the  setting  sun. 

*  His  duties  were  thus  in  the  councils  of  the  nation,  mine  in  the  less 
prominent  position  of  a  member  of  the  Legislature  of  Ohio. 

75 


76  STALWART   YEOMAN. 

I  trailed  down  the  Columbia, 

He  traced  upr  the  Yellowstone 
To  the  geysers  of  Wyoming 

And  lava  canon  lone, 
Where  halos  lure  but  poison, 

And  turned  his  footsteps  home 
To  distant  Wabash  valley, 

Thence  never  more  to  roam. 

Cold  rest  the  clods  of  Wabash, 

Piled  on  his  patriot  breast ; 
Chill  howl  the  storms  of  winter 

Round  Mount  Washburn's  rocky  crest, 
Warm  glowed  his  form  with  ardor 

When  freedom's  flag  he  bore ; 
Warm  thrilled  his  heart  for  loved  one 

'Mid  the  desert  tempests'  roar. 
Tender  their  tears  of  greeting 

When  the  toils  of  life  were  o'er ; 
Sweet  'mid  the  bowers  of  Eden 

May  they  dwell  for  evermore. 


GO   WHERE    DUTY    CALLS   THEE. 

Go  where  duty  calls  thee, 
Or  where  hope  enthralls  thee, 

O'er  mountain,  lake,  or  glade; 
Where  the  wild  man  roameth, 
Or  the  wild  wind  moaneth, 

Deep  'mid  the  forest  shade; 
Where  the  turtle  cooing, 
Or  the  bison  lowing, 
'Neath  the  wild  storm  brewing, 

Would  I  be  dear  to  thee  ? 
In  a  cavern  screening 
Thee  from  tempest  screaming, 

Wilt  thou  remember  me? 

When  by  spouting  fountains, 
'Mid  the  snowy  mountains, 

In  the  Park  of  Mystery, 
From  thy  couch  of  flowers, 
In  enchanting  bowers, 

Oft  wilt  thou  sigh  for  me  ? 
And  from  halos  pouring 
O'er  wild  waters  roaring, 
Like  proud  eagle  soaring, 

Oh,  will  thy  spirit  free, 
O'er  white  mountains  looming, 
Or  bright  prairies  blooming, 

Often  revisit  me? 

7*  77 


78  GO    WHERE   DUTY  CALLS   THEE. 

When  fierce  foes  a  legion, 
In  some  lonely  region, 

Beleague  thy  mountain  camp, 
And,  from  watching  dreary, 
This  loved  form  grows  weary, 

Cold  its  turfy  couch  and  damp, 
In  thy  fitful  dreaming 
Will  these  bright  eyes  beaming, 
Or  in  sorrow  streaming, 

Like  angels  visit  thee? 
All  in  anguish  quaking, 
From  thy  vision  waking, 

Oh,  wilt  thou  welcome  me  ? 

When  from  leaden  rattle 
Of  terrific  battle 

Smoke  hides  the  light  of  day, 
And  from  hatchet  gleaming 
Crimson  tide  is  streaming 

In  visions  far  away, 
From  the  wounded  lying, 
'Mid  the  gory  dying, 
Hear  the  moans  and  sighing 

Of  bosom  dear  to  thee, 
Lisp  will  latest  whisper 
Dearer  name  than  sister, 

And  sacred  all  to  me  ? 


THE   DYING   MANDANS. 

BENEATH  the  rolling  coteau, 

Beside  the  roaring  flood, 
Dwelt  the  race  of  the  Man-i-tou, 

Mandans  of  the  better  blood. 

Their  earth-lodge  homes  of  plenty, 

From  tillage  of  the  soil, 
Enticed  the  Sioux  robbers 

To  plunder  and  despoil. 

Slaughtered  amid  the  gardens, 
And  driven  from  the  plain, 

Smallpox  among  the  wardens, 
Missouri's  bath  was  vain. 

Death's  last  relentless  gleaner 
Swept  maidens  young  and  fair ; 

Warriors  with  plume  and  streamer 
Lay  dying  everywhere. 

Where,  then,  were  Clarke  and  Catlin  ? 

Where  Irving,  Camp,  and  Stone  ? 
With  Brule  and  smallpox  battling, 

They  sank  and  died  alone  ! 

79 


80  THE  DYING   MANDANS. 

47  Oh,  ghastly  scene  of  horror  ! 

Oh,  ghostly  town  of  doom  ! 
No  hope  in  dawn  of  morrow, 
No  halo  'mid  the  gloom. 

Thus  sank  the  Ree  and  Mandan, 
No  friends  to  cheer  or  save ; 

Thus  dying  in  abandon, 
And  for  the  dead  no  grave. 

Long  years  have  come  and  vanished, 
Crumbling  each  earth-lodge  home  ; 

Long  have  the  remnant  banished 
Ceased  o'er  the  site  to  roam. 

By  Little  Horn's  green  valley — 
Beyond  the  Yellowstone — 

Sioux,  Brule,  and  Teton  rally, 
The  pale- face  dead  have  strewn. 

Long  years  again  shall  vanish, 
And  Custer,  Cook,  and  Blue, — • 

Their  honors  none  would  banish 
From  lists  of  heroes  true. 

And  Reynolds, — noble  Charley, — 
And  Mandan, — Bloody-Knife, — 

Who  ever  scorned  to  parley, 
But  fighting  gave  their  life  1 


THE   DYING   TRAPPER. 

PEERLESS  the  park  of  fountains  ! 

Far,  oh,  far  below 
Its  circling  crests  of  mountains, 

Begirt  with  ice  and  snow  ! 

48  Hard  by  those  spouting  fountains, 

Far,  oh,  far  away  ! 
Done  with  his  frays  and  scoutings, 
A  dying  trapper  lay  : 

One  reared  in  wealth  and  kindness, — 

Sad,  oh,  sad  the  day ! 
When  blighted  love  and  blindness 

Allured  his  feet  astray. 

Long  years  have  come  and  vanished, — 

Time,  oh,  time  has  flown  ! 
Since  rudely  scorned  and  banished 

To  tread  the  wilds  alone. 

But  on  that  gloomy  morning 

Screams,  oh,  screams,  and  yells, — 

Of  death  and  ravage  warning, — 
Rang  through  the  glades  and  dells ! 

81 


82 


THE   DYING    TXAPPER. 

Gory  and  scalped  around  him, 

Cold,  oh,  cold  and  dead  ! 
Were  cherished  friends  who  bound  him 

To  home  and  vision  fled. 


THE   DYING   TRAPPER. 

Remnant  soon  of  comrades  rally,— 

Few,  oh,  few,  and  sad  ! 
"Boys,"  he  says,  "dark  seems  the  valley, 

Oh,  gently  raise  my  head  ! 


DYING    TRAPPER. 

"  Brothers,  Life's  crimson  tide  is  flowing, 

Soon,  oh,  soon  'twill  cease  ! 
Lone  through  canon  dark  I'm  going 

To  gulch  of  Woe  or  glen  of  Peace. 

"  Comrades,  long  we've  roamed  together! 

Drear,  oh,  drear,  we  part ! 
Deadly  storms  scowl  o'er  the  heather, — 

Dim's  the  trail  to  Heaven's  Park. 

"  But  portrait  from  my  bosom  never 

Death,  oh,  death,  shall  part  ! 
Piercing  arrow  does  not  sever, 

But  pinions  Laura  to  my  heart ! 

"  By  thy  beck'ning  hand  invited, 

Love,  oh,  love,  I  come  ! 
Severed  in  life, — in  death  united, 

We'll  evermore  be  one  1" 


BOZEMAN  BOLD. 

A  TALE  of  guide,  who  daring  band 
From  Platte  led  safe  through  desert  sand, 
Wild  Big-horn  gulch  and  canon  lone, 
To  mountain  gate  of  Yellowstone ; 
No  bridge,  no  boat,  no  friend  to  hail, 
And  painted  warriors  on  their  trail. 

Mild  autumn  days  are  waning  fast, 
Round  mountain-peak  howls  wintry  blast ; 
For  sheltered  vale  of  Gallatin 
Pilgrim  and  guide  are  dashing  in, — 
«  Bull-boat  and  raft,  mustang  and  mule, 
50  At  war-path  ford  of  Crow  and  Brule. 

In  rival  bands  last  crest  they  scale 

By  Bozeman's  Pass  and  Bridger's  Trail ; 

"  White  men  and  tents,"— oh,  glorious  sheen 

Of  murm'ring  rill  and  pastures  green  ! 

A  town  they  plant,  but  wait  for  fame 

Of  daring  deed  to  christen  name. 

Too  soon,  alas  !   for  ranger  brave, 
Pilgrim  beleagued,  on  trail  to  save, 
In  vision  bright,  on  coteau  wild, 
Saw  sainted  wife  and  darling  child. 
"  Husband  and  sire,  no  longer  roam  ; 
In  morn  thou'lt  soar  to  us  and  home." 


BOZEMAN  BOLD. 

By  camp-fire  dim  on  Yellowstone 
Spake  daring  guide  to  comrade  lone : 
"  Up,  comrade,  up  !    grasp  rifle  soon  ! 
Swift  pinto  mount,  and  dash  from  doom ! 
Leave  me  to  fate,  my  toils  are  o'er ; 
Soon  friends  I'll  greet  on  brighter  shore. 

As  comrade  halts,  kind  words  to  say, 
"  Quick,  saddle  horse,  and  haste  away  !" 
He  cries ;  when  lo  !  adown  the  glen, 
On  loping  steeds  dash  painted  men. 
With  rifle  poised  he  ready  stands 
Till  spouting  gore  stains  desert  sands. 

Comrade  escaped,— sad  tale  to  tell, — 
Returning,  found  him  as  he  fell. 
Rifle  and  scalp,  pistol  and  plume, 
51  Sure,  phantom-warriors  caused  the  doom 
Cheyenne  and  Crow  oft  tried  in  vain, 
And  pass  and  town  bear  Bozeman's  name. 


THE   CLOUD-CIRCLED   MOUNTAINS. 

52 MY  heart's  in  the  mountains,  my  heart's  not  at  home; 

Though  here  cluster  blessings,  I  still  love  to  roam. 

My  heart's  with  my  pinto,  my  rifle  and  belt, 

Where  big-horn  and  beaver  forever  have  dwelt. 

Oh,  my  heart's  'mid" the  fountains  and  streamlets  below 

The  cloud-circled  mountains,  white-crested  with  snow ! 

My  heart's  'mid  the  mirage,  the  lakes,  and  the  plains, 
The  buttes  and  the  coteaus,  where  wild  nature  reigns ; 
My  heart's  'mid  the  coulees  and  canons  so  grand, 
And  bright-spouting  geysers  of  lone  Wonder-Land. 
Oh,  my  heart's  'mid  those  fountains  and  streamlets  below 
Those  cloud-circled  mountains,  white-crested  with  snow  1 

My  heart's  by  the  camp-fires  of  trappers  so  bold, 

The  tents  and  the  teepees  of  warriors  of  old ; 

My  heart's  down  the  river,  whose  torrents  loud  roar 

In  greeting  the  billows  on  surf-beaten  shore. 

Oh,  my  heart's  'mid  the  fountains,  whence  trout  stream 

lets  flow 
'Mid  cloud-circled  mountains,  white-crested  with  snow  1 

My  heart's  in  the  valleys  and  parks  of  the  West, 
'Mid  deer,  elk,  and  grizzly,  of  all  game  the  best. 
Farewell  to  my  business,  farewell  to  my  home ; 
Adieu  to  my  loved  ones,  my  fate  is  to  roam 
'Mid  the  pure  crystal  fountains  and  geysers  below 
The  wild-circling  mountains,  white-glistening  with  snow. 
86 


THE   CLOUD-CIRCLED   MOUNTAINS.  87 

My  heart's  'mid  old  forests  by  lava  o'erthrown, 

Now  crystals  of  opal  and  amethyst-stone, 

Chalcedony  casket  (for  Manitou's  heart), 

And  brilliant  enamel  unrivalled  by  art. 

Oh,  my  heart's  'mid  such  caverns  'neath  the  lava  o'erflow 

From  once  fiery  mountains,  now  buried  in  snow ! 

My  heart  glows  with  ardor  to  gather  and  learn 

New  lessons  of  science,  if  spared  to  return ; 

If  mine  be  to  perish,  may  Heaven  bestow 

A  tomb  in  lone  grotto  deep  hidden  in  snow  ! 

Oh,  my  heart's  'mid  the  fountains  and  grottos  below 

The  cloud-circled  mountains,  white-crested  with  snow ! 


WHERE   ELSE   ON   EARTH? 

S3  WHERE  else  on  earth  does  water  furnish 

Rocky  evidence  so  strong 
Of  its  power  to  build  and  burnish, 
As  this  terrace,  high  and  long  ? 

Chorus. 

Where  the  peerless  pools  for  healing 
From  their  ruins  'mid  the  snow, 

Each,  with  waters  health  restoring, 
Terrace  to  the  glens  below. 

Dim,  amid  the  ages  vanished, 
Snowy  waters  laughing  poured, 

Through  the  valley,  and  in  cafion, 
Loud,  in  falls  and  rapids,  roared. 

Then  from  womb  of  fires  smothered 
Broad  were  yawning  fissures  rent, 

And  o'er  mists  from  seething  waters 
Rainbows  ever  beauteous  blent. 

'Twas  a  new  creation  forming, 
Geysers,  matchless  at  their  birth  ; 

Round  their  hissing  funnels  building 

Marble  forms  unknown  to  earth. 
88 


WHERE  ELSE    ON  EARTH? 

In  the  ages  slowly  passing, 

From  these  rents  of  hidden  fire 

Spouts  the  min'ral-laden  waters, 
Terrace  ever  building  higher. 

Till  athwart  the  canon  yawning, 
Firm  a  rocky  barrier  rose, — 

With  the  severed  waters  forming 
Mountain-lake  amid  the  snows. 

54 Long  its  waves,  by  tempest  driven, 

Fiercely  lashed  its  seething  shore; 
Fire  and  flood  in  conflict  fearful 
'Mid  the  clouds  terrific  roar. 

But  the  power  ever  waning 
Of  the  smothered  fire  of  woe 

Left  the  crests  with  forests  circled, 
And  new  funnels  formed  below. 

53  Then  the  ever-lashing  billows 

Rent  a  gap  in  mountain-side, 
And  the  wild  escaping  waters 
Carved  a  canon  deep  and  wide. 

Still  the  all-eroding  waters 

Undermined  the  crests  of  snow, 

Hurling  funnel,  tree,  and  terrace, 
Crushed  and  mingled,  far  below. 

96  Hence  these  ruins  weird  and  fearful, 
And  the  cliffs  so  white  and  grand, 
And  these  crumbling  cones  of  geysers, 
Still  the  pride  of  Wonder-Land. 


BRADLEY   THE  BRAVE. 

57  LAST  of  a  race  of  warriors  who  served  their  country 

well, 

In  glen  of  distant  mountains  foremost  thou  fighting  fell ; 
The  promise  of  a  hero,  in  thy  maiden-march  through 

rain 

In  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  has  proven  not  in  vain. 
E'en  now  as  then  I  view  thee  expand  from  boy  to  man, 
When  the  opening  roar  of  battle  first  found  thee  in  the 

van, 
Ever  thy  choice  of  duty  where  crimson  torrents  ran. 

When  strength  of  sire  was  sinking  from  suffering  in  the 

field 
Thy   youthful   arm  waxed   stalwart   the   battle-blade   to 

wield ; 

In  every  post  of  duty,  of  danger,  or  of  skill, 
Matchless  was  thy  endurance,  thy  iron  nerve  and  will ; 
Until  the  flag  of  freedom,  of  union,  and  of  love, 
O'er  fiery  clans  of  treason  in  triumph  soared  above 
With  the  pinion  of  the  eagle  and   the  plumage  of  the 

dove. 

Then  hastening  to  the  border,  thou  eager  sought  to  know 
The  hidden  haunts  of  Blackfoot,  of  Sioux,  and  of  Crow; 
And  boldly,  with  thy  vet'rans,  in  craggy  pass  or  plain, 
Or  valleys  of  the  rivers  the  snowy  mountains  drain, 
Thou  fearless  trailed  the  savage,  the  innocent  to  save, — 
90 


BRADLEY  THE  BRAVE.  91 

Though  summer's  sun  is  scorching  or  winter's  tempest 

rave, — 
On  all  the  border  honored,  bold  leader  of  the  brave. 

But  halo  days  are  ended,  and  sorrow  is  come, 
With  the  stalwart  Nez-Perces  from  setting  of  sun, 
In  the  vanguard  of  Gibbon,  first  flash  lays  thee  low, 
Still  thy  battle-blade  clasping,  firm  facing  the  foe ; 
'Mid  the  heaps  of  slain  comrades  tho'rt  deluged  in  gore, 
Cold  and  stern  is  thy  visage,— thy  conflicts  are  o'er, 
And  the  war-whoop  of  savage  shall  rouse  thee  no  more  ! 

Far  away  art  thou  sleeping  in  silence  and  peace, 

Friends  and  kindred  are  weeping, — in  joy  let  them  cease ; 

Thy  sore-stricken  parents  rejoice  in  a  son, 

A  hero,  whose  laurels  were  gallantly  won  ; 

Thy  State  and  thy  country  in  gratitude  save 

s8From  sorrow  thy  loved  ones,  and  green  o'er  thy  grave 

Twine  the  myrtle  and  laurel,  O  Bradley  the  brave  ! 


FROM   BIG-HORN'S   BLEAK  MOUNTAINS. 

»FROM  Big-horn's  bleak  mountains  white  glistening  with 

snow, 
The  Big-horn's  bright  fountains  through  green  meadows 

flow, 

Or,  skipping  and  dashing  in  rapids  or  falls, 
In  fury  loud  lashing  their  deep  canon  walls ; 
Then  'mid  the  long  coteaus  by  roses  o'ergrown 
Rush  its  floods  to  their  greeting  the  bold  Yellowstone. 

In  all  these  green  valleys  from  river  to  snow, 
Where  autumn  long  dallies,  are  cairns  of  the  Crow ; 
The  harvest  of  battles  with  Rick-a-ree  brave, 
And  Sioux  or  Blackfoot,  their  country  to  save  ; 
Where  warm  are  the  winters  and  countless  the  game 
Of  bison  and  "  big-horn,"— "  wild  sheep,"— hence  the 
name. 

But  vain  were  all  efforts  with  Sioux  for  peace ; 
Ne'er  silent  was  war-whoop,  ne'er  signal-fires  cease, 
60  Till  Custer  from  Rosebud  saw  valley  as  sweet 
As  glens  where  the  spirits  of  warriors  shall  meet, 
And  in  his  last  rally,  'mid  plumed  crested  braves, 
Led  phalanx  of  heroes  to  glory,— not  graves  ! 

Here  Bridger  and  Bozeman,  in  crusade  for  gold, 
Led  pilgrims  and  miners  and  mountaineers  bold  ; 
92 


FROM  BIG-HORN'S  BLEAK  MOUNTAINS.        93 

Fierce  fighting  the  Sioux — but  kind  was  the  Crow — 
In  passes  of  mountains  or  valleys  below, — 
Cl  And  Farrer  and  comrades  passed  safely  along 
Sweet  valley,  now  famous  for  slaughter  and  song. 

O'er  all  these  long  coteaus,  from  mountain  to  plain, 
In  all  these  broad  valleys  that  mountain  floods  drain, 
Each  park  'mid  the  forests,  each  glen  'mid  the  snow, 
Are  dwindling  the  warriors,  are  fading  the  Crow ; 
And  soon  shall  the  ploughshare  of  pale-face  turn  o'er 
The  sites  of  their  teepees,  once  crimson  with  gore, — 
The  bones  of  a  people  who  wander  no  more ! 


MYSTIC   LAND. 

"  OH,  tell  me,  I  pray  thee,  my  comrade  and  friend, 

In  Mystic  Land  only  do  wonders  so  blend  ? 

Bright  fountains,  bleak  mountains  unrivalled  in  form, 

Commingling,  encircling,  in  sunshine  and  storm; 

And  geysers  and  salses  eject  from  below 

Hot  water  and  sulphur  from  regions  of  woe, 

With  meanings  and  groanings,  like  wails  of  the  lost, 

From  funnels  of  fire  encircled  by  frost ! 

"There  big-horn  and  bison  calm  graze  in  the  glade, 

Near  grizzly  and  lion,  low  crouched  in  the  shade ; 

Where  throbbings  and  Mowings  of  hot  springs  and  streams 

Build  cascades  of  marble,  reflecting  in  gleams; 

Cliff-buttressed,  tall  turrets,  white  glistening  in  snow, 

Are  mirrored  in  lakelets  unfathorned  below; 

And  bendings  and  rendings  of  thin  crust  of  earth, 

In  quivering  convulsions,  like  travail  of  birth ; 

Hot  water  in  chaldrons  by  cold  lake  and  brook, 

For  boiling,  still  floundering,  live  trout  on  the  hook. 

"  Where  rubies  bright  sparkle  in  caskets  of  stone, 
Of  cedars  and  balsams  by  lava  o'erflown  ; 
And  crystals  in  grottos  e'er  glisten  and  gleam 
In  visions  unrivalled  save  Aladdin's  dream ; 
Near  caverns  of  sulphur  as  hissing  and  hot 
As  slime  vales  of  Sodom  in  legend  of  Lot ; 
94 


MYSTIC  LAND. 

And  mist-sheen  and  echo,  from  cascades  and  falls, 
With  beauty  and  music  enliven  their  walls ; 
And  coule  and  canon,  deep-furrowed  by  time, 
Are  terraced  and  tinted,  unique  and  sublime ; 
And  rainbow  and  halo  encircle  the  sheen 
Of  geysers  reflected  in  lakelets  of  green  !" 

"  Hist,  comrade  !  I  claim  there  is  not  on  this  earth 

Its  rival  in  beauty,  in  wonders,  or  worth ; 

For  surely  here  nature  has  gathered  to  show 

In  marvels  commingled  all  mortals  should  know ; 

Of  planet  formation  its  growth  and  decay, 

As  childhood  to  manhood,  and  fading  away ; 

Where  ramble  and  romance  insure  from  despair 

The  victims  of  sickness,  of  sorrow,  and  care, 

And  science,  in  strata,  new  pages  unfold 

Of  structure  and  crystal  in  forests  of  old ; 

Lo  i   Christians,  in  meekness,  in  faith,  and  in  love, 

Seek  from  wonders  below  their  Creator  above." 


THE   GRANGER   SONG. 

63  OH,  my  rural  friend  and  neighbor, 

If  inclined  to  roam, 
Listen  to  me  while  I  truly 
Say,  Why  stay  at  home. 

Chorus. 

Keep  the  farm,  my  rural  neighbor, 

Hold  the  plough  or  drive ; 
Drain  your  swamps,  read  well,  and  labor, 

Frugal  live  and  thrive. 

In  the  passing  years  depressing 

Countless  homes  are  sold 
On  a  mortgage  for  a  trifle, 

Lost  in  search  of  gold. 

Some  in  cities  seek  professions 

Already  overgrown ; 
Others  business  all  unfitting, 

Now  their  luck  bemoan. 

Some  the  prairies  and  the  valleys 

Of  the  boundless  West, 
Though  alluring,  found  deceiving, 

And  are  sore  distressed. 
96 


THE    GRANGER   SONG.  97 

Oh,  the  hunger,  toil,  and  danger 

Of  the  thirsty  plain, 
Or  in  gulches  of  the  pilgrim, 

Seeking  gold  in  vain  ! 

Cold  the  clods  and  rude  the  coffin 

O'er  some  loving  breast ; 
Thus  unwisely,  all  untimely, 

Hasten'd  to  his  rest. 

Neither  mountain,  gem,  nor  valley 

Should  entice  to  roam 
From  the  blessings  ever  nestling 

'Round  an  eastern  home. 

Oh,  ye  lassies,  early  blooming, 

Harbor  not  the  beau 
Who  is  witty — more's  the  pity— 

From  the  wine's  o'erflow. 

And  ye  Grangers,  seeking  knowledge 

In  our  rural  schools, 
Wisely  choose  the  yeoman  college, — 

'Tis  no  place  for  fools. 

Long  and  narrow  seems  the  furrow 

As  a  road  to  wealth  ; 
Yet  pursuing  is  insuring 

Honor,  home,  and  health. 

Plant  the  chestnut,  yew,  and  balsam, 

Ash  and  vernal  pine, 
Arbor-vitae  hedge  'round  orchard, 

Peach  and  trellis'd  vine. 
9  9 


THE    GRANGER   SONG. 

Hold  the  homestead  of  your  father; 

Leave  it  to  your  son  ; 
Leave  it  better  than  you  found  it 

When  your  work  is  done. 

Build  your  school-rooms,  rear  your  churches, 

And  sustain  them  too  ; 
Be  to  temperance,  truth,  and  virtue 

Ever  just  and  true. 


BORDER   BRAVE. 

(GENERAL  N.  D.  MILES.) 

VICT'RY  again,  thou  border  brave, 
Snatched  from  the  jaws  of  fate ; 

Through  flood  or  flame  to  battle  save 
Thou  never  wert  too  late. 

Nez-Perce's,  chief  of  gallant  race, 

Proud  leader  on  the  trail, 
In  Gibbon's  charge  and  Howard's  chase 

Proved  fearful  to  assail. 

Through  glade  and  glen  in  Wonder-Land 

His  stalwart  warriors  came, 
Tourists  to  save  'mid  geysers  grand 

Plead  innocence  in  vain. 

When  winding  from  the  snowy  crest, 

Or  dashing  o'er  the  plain, 
The  crafty  Crow,  and  Sturgis  pressed 

Upon  his  trail  in  vain. 

Then  o'er  Missouri's  turbid  flood 

He  all  pursuers  scorns, 
Yet  on  the  trail  to  Sitting  Bull 

Found  Bear's-Paw  Mountain  thorns. 

99 


100 


BORDER   BRAVE. 

There,  trailer  thou  on  mountain-path, 

And  victor  of  the  dales, 
As  screaming  eagle  swoops  in  wrath, 

The  fearful  foe  assails. 

Thy  vet'rans  bold  charge  as  of  old, 
'Mid  storm  and  leaden  rain, 

And  daring  scout  and  comrades  bold 
Are  numbered  with  the  slain 

63  Not  unavenged,  for  Looking-Glass 

And  countless  warriors  brave 
No  more  will  ambush  in  the  pass, 
But  fill  a  warrior's  grave. 

The  white  flag  floats  for  fight  to  cease ; 

Then  pleads  the  chief  to  save 
The  remnant  of  his  band,  and  peace 

Of  gallant  Border  Brave. 


THE   TATTOOED   ARTIST. 

64 1  SING  of  an  artist,  scribe,  poet,  and  seer, 

A  lover  of  nature  and  scoffer  at  fear, 

Who  longed  in  his  childhood,  and  yearned  as  a  man, 

For  a  steed  on  the  border,  a  sword  in  the  van, 

And  a  couch  on  the  field  where  the  red  torrents  ran. 

At  school  oft  the  figures  would  marshal  as  men, 

.Fierce  braves  on  the  coteau,  or  scouts  in  the  glen ; 

His  brush,  as  an  artist,  the  lilies  would  scorn, 

And  glory  in  painting  the  cactus  and  thorn, 

Or  the  crests  of  his  warriors  with  plumes  would  adorn. 

As  a  poet,  o'erlooking  the  beauties  of  home, 
•  His  themes  are  of  artists  and  warriors  who  roam, — 
Tall,  portly,  and  stalwart,  with  long,  wavy  hair, 
A  hero  he  seems  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair, 
And  his  lyrics  the  patrons  of  science  ensnare. 

And  thus  he  arranges  a  tourist  to  go 
O'er  the  plains  and  the  rivers  and  mountains  of  snow, 
To  note  while  he  journeys,  and  write  when  at  rest, 
And  paint  the  proud  warriors  and  steeds  of  the  West, 
To  publish  in  journals  of  science  the  best. 

With  outfit  unrivalled,  hope  buoyant  and  strong, 
He  hies  for  the  regions  of  slaughter  and  song  ; 
All  cheerful  his  parting  with  patrons  and  friends, 
But  tears  fleck  the  tokens  a  fond  mother  sends, 
And  the  cheeks  of  one  dearer,  whose  locket  attends. 

o*  101 


I02  THE    TATTOOED  AR TIST. 

Our  hero  a  listener  to  lectures  had  been, 
Which  portray  the  white  man  as  primitive  sin ; 
While,  lo  !  the  poor  Indian  is  ever  in  need, 
Bereft  of  his  birthright  and  robbed  of  his  steed, 
Safe  prey  for  the  pale-face,  his  lust,  and  his  greed. 

And  Catlin  he'd  envied,  and  Cooper  perused, 

On  their  tales  and  their  paintings  in  sympathy  mused, 

'Till  love  for  his  race  as  a  people  had  fled  ; 

No  fear  on  the  border  save  of  those  who  had  said, 

"  The  only  good  Indians  are  those  who  are  dead." 

Thus  blithe  from  the  portals  of  science  and  lore, 
He  hies  to  the  regions  of  ambush  and  gore  ; 
On  a  craft  of  the  rivers,  released  from  restraint, 
In  tracings  of  nature,  wild,  brilliant,  or  quaint, 
He  revels  with  brushes,  pen,  pencil,  and  paint. 

"Oh,  ho  !"  says  our  artist,  "quick  land  me  again," 
As  a  village  of  teepees  he  spies  on  the  plain  ; 
"  I'll  show  you  the  spirit  of  Catlin  survives, 
And  fears  not  the  warriors,  dog-soldiers,  or  wives  !" 
"They're  painters  all,  too,"  quoth  a  scout,  "and  have 
knives." 

While  the  steamer  is  puffing  to  round  a  great  bend, 
Does  our  artist  with  vigor  the  coteau  ascend ; 
The  warriors  perceive  him,  and  quickly  prepare 
To  tender  a  greeting  warm,  brilliant,  and  rare, 
And  finish  the  frolic  by  "lifting  his  hair." 

"  How-how  !"  quoth  our  artist  as  rearing  his  brush, 
"  Mak-wa"  say  the  warriors  as  for  him  they  rush  ; 


7777i    TATTOOED  ARTIST.  ^3 

While  seeking  to  show  them  his  friendship  and  faith, 
They  rob  him  and  welt  him  with  jeering  and  mirth, 
Each  brave  and  squaw  helping  "  for  all  they  are  worth." 

Down  hot  pours  the  sun  on  his  shoulders  and  back, 
Each  squaw  making  merry  with  tickle  and  whack ; 
Watch,  clothing,  and  weapons  are  stripped  from  his  neck, 
Squaw,  pappoose,  and  wizard  each  save  from  the  wreck, 
And  the  breast  of  the  chief,  does  his  locket  bedeck. 

Lo  !  modesty  shocking,  no  model  so  nude 
E'er  poised  for  his  pencil  as  for  it  he  stood  ; 
Nor  was  it  on  canvas  their  tracings  were  quaint, 
But  the  model  they  tackled  with  bodkin  and  paint ; 
Such  greeting  by  friends  !  'twould  have  ruffled  a  saint. 

On  thighs  they  lizards  tattoo  in  colors  bright  and  true ; 
On  belly  plump  a  bull-boat  with  naked  squaws  the  crew ; 
On  brawny  breast  Crow  totems  of  glistening  black  they 

drew; 

On  arms  and  cheek  a  striping  of  yellow,  red,  and  blue ; 
On  forehead  grinning  goblins,  all  hideous  to  the  view  ; 
And  ears  and  nose  fresh  eyelets,  with  gaudy  trinkets  new, 
Rig  up  his  frontal  gear ! 

Some- raven-plumes  they  plaited  among  his  golden  hair, 
And  eagle-pinions  painted  across  his  shoulders  fair ; 
On  back  a  curly  bison,  with  tail  erect  in  air, 
With  rampant  strides  was  chasing  a  grizzly  to  his  lair; 
Some  serpents  scaly  twining  where  pants  he  used  to  wear, 
And  pair  of  wall-eyed   owlets  where  wont  to  press  the 
chair, 

Brought  up  a  brilliant  rear ! 


THE    TATTOOED  ARTIST. 

Sure  'twas  a  sight  that  Barnum,  with  all  his  craft  and  gold, 
Ne'er  saw,  or  dreamed,  or  conjured,  though  half  is  still 

untold. 

A  forked  post  they  planted  two  bison-heads  to  hold, 
And  grizzly's  head  above  them,  by  forked  prong  con 
trolled  ; 

With  cruel  thongs  they  bound  him,  as  slave  in  market  sold, 
And  fagots  piled  around  him,  lest  he  was  growing  cold ; 
And  then  they  danced  and  sung  : 

"Si-oux  chieftain,  tall  and  bold, 

Maiden  fair  and  wizard  old  ; 

Hun-ka,*  weazen,  pap-poosef  young, 

Warrior  with  his  bow  unstrung, 

Meet  you,  greet  you,  heart  and  hand, 

To  the  secrets  of  our  land, 

And  upon  your  bosom  white 

To-temsJ  trace  for  sacred  rite; 

Deep  we  pierce  and  bright  we  paint 

Grizzly  bold  and  bison  quaint ; 

Shunk-to-ke-cha,§  he-kha-ka,|| 

Shun-ka-wa-kan,^  wa-pa-ha,** 

Wi-ta-wa-ta,ff  sa-paj|  wan,§§ 
Illl  Wi-chen-yan-na,lflf  win-i-ban."  *** 

*  Da'-ko-ta,  his  mother.  f  O-jib-wa,  Indian  child. 

J  To'-tems,  symbolic  Indian  name. 

g  Ha-ko-ta,  the  other  dog,  wolf. 

||  Da-ko-ta,  the  antlered  male  elk. 

f  Da-ko-ta,  shun-ka,  dog;  wa-kan,  sacred  dog,  horse. 
**  Da-ko-ta,  hat  or  cap. 

ff  Da-ko-ta,  ship  or  boat.  \\  Da-ko-ta,  black. 

$$  Da-ko-ta,  one,  a  or  an. 

Ill  The  last  line  doubtless  refers  to  some  maiden  of  the  tribe  who 
had  been  carried  off  by  the  white  men. 

\\  Da-ko-ta,  girl.  ***  O-jib-wa,  gone. 


THE    TATTOOED  ARTIST,  IO5 

While  wizard  circled  round  him,  with  pricking  thrust  of 

spear, 

With  scalping-knife  a  warriorcarved  round  his  frontal  gear, 
And  hatchet  hurled  at  ear-rings,  to  test  his  sense  of  fear; 
Some  squaws  with  rancid  bear's-grease  his  thighs  and 

buttocks  smear, 
In  love,  with  splinters  blazing,  they  singed  him  there 

and  here, 

Then  kindly  fired  the  fagots,  his  Indian  friends  to  cheer, 
And  then  another  dance  and  song : 

"Il-la-hi,*  you  come  to  see, 
Lo-lo-lof  you  want  to  be ; 
Chit-woot  f  sko-kum,§  bold  you  come, 
Mos-mos,||  stupid  to  your  doom, 
Ab-sa-ra-ka,Tf  til-la-cume.** 
Que-u-que-u,ff  lance  and  plume, 
Min-ne-ke-waJJ  cannot  save, 
Min-ne-wa-wa§§  branches  wave, 
Kam-ooks||||  gaunt  around  you  glare, 
Ka-kawslfTf  circle  in  the  air. 
By  the  blood  of  kindred  slain 
Thine  shall  lance  and  fagot  drain. 
I-san-tan-ka,***  feel  our  ire, 
Wa-kan-sche-cha,f-|-f  in  the  fire." 

*  Chinook  jargon,  country  our.       f  Chinook  jargon,  conqueror. 
J  Chinook  jargon,  bear.  $  Chinook  jargon,  brave. 

||  Chinook  jargon,  buffalo.  f  Da-ko-ta,  Crow  Indian. 

**  Chinook  jargon,  enemies.  ff  Chinook  jargon,  circle- circle. 

It  Santee,  water-god. 

%\  Da-ko-ta,  pleasant  sounds  of  the  breezes  in  the  grove. 
||||  Chinook  jargon,  dogs. 
\\  Chinook  jargon,  crows  or  ravens. 
***  Da-ko-ta,  Big-Knife,  American, 
ttt  Da-ko-ta,  wa-kan,  mystery ;  sche-cha,  bad  mystery,  devil. 


I06  THE    TATTOOED   ARTIST. 

And  our  confiding  artist,  what  of  his  faith  and  love 

For  persecuted  chieftain  and  loving  turtle-dove, 

And   brood  of  helpless  robins,  thrust   from   their  quiet 

nest? 

His  feelings  still  were  tender,  but — truth  must  be  con 
fessed — 

Yearned  less  for  hosts  who  honored  than  for  their  honored 
guest. 

And  visions  fast  are  flashing  within  him  and  around, 
With  wonders  why  he's  tattooed  and  'mid   the   fagots 

bound  ; 
And  less  he  thanked  the  artists  than  cursed  his  coat  of 

paint, 

And  less  his  prayers  for  Indians  than  execrations  quaint, — 
Proof  that  one  may  die  a  martyr  who  still  is  not  a  saint. 

But  lo  !  the  proud  steamer  is  heaving  in  view,— 
"  Heap-heap  of  fine  frolic,  here  goes  for  one  new  ! 
"  Wa-wa  !"  *  shouts  the  wizard,  as  hurling  the  brands 
And  scalping-knife  gleaming,  quick  severs  the  bands; 
From  the  fire  reels  our  hero,  and  bewilderingly  stands. 

The  wand  of  the  wizard  is  wafted  amain ; 

Soon  a  gantlet-line  lengthy  is  formed  on  the  plain ; 

Nude  chieftain  and  warrior,  buck,  pappoose,  and  squaw, 

And  curs  of  all  colors,  gaunt  belly  and  maw ; 

Such  greeting  and  parting  few  guests  ever  saw  ! 

Alas  for  our  artist !  scene  lively  and  quaint, — 
But  somehow  his  ardor  had  vanished  for  paint,— 

*  Wa-wa',  Chinook  jargon,  a  call ;  as,  hear !  hear ! 


THE    TATTOOED  ARTIST.  Ioy 

And  theme  for  a  poet,  few  better  are  seen  ; 

But  strangely  his  visions  were  not  with  his  theme, 

But  afar  with  a  mother,  or  the  maiden  a  gleam. 

The  calliope's  trumpet,  enlivening,  he  hears, 

And  shouts  from  the  steamer,  loud  greeting  with  cheers. 

One  sigh  for  the  maiden  he's  seeking  to  find, 

One  spank  from  the  nude  one  he's  leaving  behind, 

And  into  the  gantlet  he  sails  like  the  wind  ! 

Oh,  were  I  a  poet  to  graphic  portray 
The  skill  of  our  bard  in  the  gantlet  and  fray, — 
With  switch,  knife,  or  fagot,  each  pappoose  in  place, 
Each  maid  with  her  larrup,  and  warrior  with  mace, 
To  prick,  switch,  or  gash  him,  then  join  in  the  chase. 

Faith,  never  by  breech-clouts  such  running  was  seen  \ 
Such  twisting  and  turning  and  dodging  between  ; 
Thrusts  and  blows  that  were  aimed  at  our  hero  before 
Oft  sprawled  those  behind  him  in  howling  and  gore  ; 
Sure,  his  bison  helps  dodge,  and  his  eagle  helps  soar. 

Soon  out  of  the  gantlet  he  hies  him  amain, 
Leaving  yelling  pursuers  wide-spread  o'er  the  plain  ; 
But  the  whelps  of  all  sizes,  stride,  color,  and  breed, 
As  wolves  swarm  around  him,  ferocious  in  greed, 
Where  the  Indians  are  scattered,  delaying  his  speed. 

Alack  !   when  with  skill  he  was  dodging  a  brave, 
Whose  hatchet-blow  missed  him,  and  a  yelping  cur  clave, 
Another, — not  warrior,  but  cur, — with  a  yell, 
Grabbed  his  owlets  behind,  and  together  they  fell, 
Dogs,  poet,  and  warriors  commingled  pell-mell. 


I0g  THE    7  AT  TOO  ED   ARTIST. 

But  our  hero,  by  doubling  in  striking  the  ground, 
With  somersault  double,  a  leap,  and  a  bound, 
Dogs,  wizard,  and  warriors  are  distanced,  and  found 
On  the  cactus-thorns  sprawling  or  howling  around, 
While  the  war-whoop  and  scalp-yell  redouble  the  sound 

Nor  idle  our  friends  on  the  steamer,  whose  gun, 
Hurling  shell  'mid  the  warriors,  enlivens  the  fun  ; 
While  calliope-trumpet,  screaming  whistle,  and  bell, 
The  ringing  of  rifles,  the  shouting,  and  yell, 
From  the  stern-paddle  steamer  commingle  and  swell ! 

No  greeting  to  comrades,  nor  farewell  to  foes, 
Nor  brushing  of  ringlets,  nor  dusting  of  clothes ; 
No  sketching  of  artist,  speech  of  wizard  or  seer, — 
In  plunges  our  poet, — no  river  hath  fear, — 
And  steamer  he  reaches  'mid  shouting  and  cheer. 


No  mirror  he's  seeking,  no  maiden's  caress,— 
Sure,  all  laud  his  running,  his  swimming,  and  dress  ! 
His  greetings  as  artist  and  speedy  return, 
Such  lessons  of  friendship  as  few  ever  learn, 
And  totems  of  glory  as  glisten — and  burn. 

And  thus  from  his  sketching  our  artist  returns, 
All  covered  with  glory  t  with  bruises,  and  burns; 
Nor  thankful  for  tokens  or  totems  bestown, — 
Though  clothing  he  brought  none,  his  robe  is  his  own, 
Nor  changing  with  fashion,  nor  ever  outgrown  ! 

But  alas  for  our  poet,  scribe,  artist,  and  seer, 

The  maid  of  his  bosom  greets  him  back  with  a  jeer ! 


THE    TATTOOED  ARTIST.  109 

"  Oh,  where  is  my  locket,  with  its  sweet,  smiling  face? 
For  an  ugly  squaw-bartered    breast   of  breech-clout    to 

grace  ? 
Then  come  ye  thus  tattooed  my  fair  name  to  debase?" 

And  the  patrons  of  science  were  little  less  rude ; 
While  Adonis  and  Venus  they  worship  all  nude, 
The  artist  they  furnished,  who  a  model  returns, 
With  lofty  disdaining  their  modesty  spurns  ! 
Worse  than  fagots  of  savage  such  ingratitude  burns ! 

But  just  as  cash,  courage,  and  patience  were  gone, 
His  tattooed  form  bending,  gaunt,  famished,  and  wan, 
The  tale  of  his  suffering  reached  Barnum  the  brave, 
Who  found  him  and  saved  him,  and  lasting  fame  gave — 
His  coat  of  all  colors,  "Tattooed,  captive,  and  slave  !" 

Thus  failing  untimely  as  an  artist  or  seer, 

And  savant  and  poet, — there  is  reason  to  fear, — 

His  harp  with  his  pencil  and  scrap-book  are  flung 

Where  wizard  ne'er  tattooed  nor  poet  e'er  sung; 

Hence  these  rude  strains  of  tribute,  with  harp  all  unstrung, 

To  the  seer  and  the  savage  !     Adieu,  I  am  done. 


10 


THE   MOSQUITO. 

IN  eastern  vale  or  western  valley 

The  stagnant  pools  his  home  ; 
In  northern  marsh  or  warm  savanna, 

He  welcomes  those  who  roam  ! 

Not  Catlin's  brush  nor  Cooper's  cunning 

Can  paint  this  insect  true, 
Nor  Shakspeare's  Shylock  match  his  dunning,- 

For  blood  he  claims  his  due. 

With  fanning  wings  and  music  charming, 

Mosquitoes  lull  their  prey, 
Safe  chance  to  find,  without  alarming, 

To  steal  our  blood  away. 

But  in  thy  fertile  vales,  Missouri, 

And  by  the  Yellowstone, 
s  Like  hornet  hordes  aroused  to  fury, 
They  greet  us  to  their  home. 

Sure,  'tis  a  land  of  blood  and  slaughter, 

As  many  find  too  true ; 
With  mud  and  alkali  and  water, 

I  fear  I'm  feeling  blue  ! 

Bestride  my  loping  steed  Deschoteau, 

'Mid  antelope  on  plain, 
Or  bison  herd  upon  the  coteau, 

I'll  cheerful  feel  again, 
no 


THE   MOSQUITO.  TI1 

E'en  thus  amid  life's  conflicts  ever, 

As  day  succeeds  the  night, 
Does  triumph  crown  each  firm  endeavor 

In  struggling  for  the  right. 

And  thou,  thou  "cussed"  little  fellow, — 

Blood-sucking  leech  of  prey, — 
Rip,  roar,  and  howl,  and  sing,  and  bellow ! 

"  Slap" — takes  thy  life  away  ! 


FRIGHTENED   HANS. 

A  JOLLY  Hans,  of   Olmstead,  full,  plucky,  plump,  and 

strong, 
Went  prospecting  a  homestead,  and  drove  his  team 

along ; 
' 'Come,"  quoth  he  to  his  Fraulein,  and  to  his  kinty 

Schon, 
"  So  ven  ve  pilds  der  cabin  ve  alls  can  help  along." 

Long,  long  they  chased  the  sunset  o'er  prairie,  butte, 

and  plain, 

To  bask  in  fabled  Eden,  but  everywhere  in  vain ; 
Still  salter  seemed  the  waters,  and  shorter  grew  the  grass, 
66 The  shining  sands  of  coteaus  reflecting  heat  like  glass. 

Weary,  faint,  and  sinking,  in  misery  and  woe, 

'Mid  vision  scenes  of  drinking,  where  waters  never  flow, 

Mountains  !  the  Rocky  Mountains  !  glad  they  greet  with 

cheers ; 
Mirage  of  gushing  fountains  dispel  their  frantic  fears. 

With  joy  and  hope  they  rally,  and  climb  the  rocky  crest; 
A  glorious  smiling  valley  lay  nestling  in  the  West : 
"  Oh,  here  will  end  our  sorrow,  no  further  will  we  roam, 
But  joyful  on  the  morrow  will  choose  our  site  for  home." 

With  pail  in  hand,  dismounting,  for  water  for  the  team, 
Hans  hastens  to  the   fountain, — oh,  horrid  stench  and 
steam  ! 

112 


FRIGHTENED  HANS.  II3 

"Zulphur!"    he   shouts;    then   stooping,   hot,    foaming 

water  finds, 
And   hastening  from   the  basin,  gets  caught   in   border 

vines. 

"  Dhrive,  Schon"  he   cries,   "mein  Sohn  /  for  zulphur 

sthrong  I  schmell, 

And  vater  hot  mit  primstone,  for  sure  ze  burning  hell 
Be's  not  von  mile  from  dis  phlace  !     Dhrive  quick  and 

fast,  mein  Sohn  ! 
Farewell,  mein  Fraulein  Kathrine  !     Got  save  mein  kinty 

Schon  !" 

Attached  unto  the  legend  is  a  moral  sure  as  woe : 

In  scouting  a  new  region,  look  well  before  you  go. 

In  vales  of  stifling  brimstone  perchance  'tis  well  to  pray, 

But  glorious  greeting  geysers — unwise  to  run  away. 

Thus  sequel  sad  to  legend  adheres,  as  it  would  seem ; 
For   Hans    and    John    and    Fraulein,    though   safe   'mid 

smoke  and  steam, 
Were  captured  by  the  Si-oux  in  their  causeless  stampede 

lone ; 
^Fear  of  scalding  led  to  roasting  on  the  fated  Yellow- 

stone. 


10* 


THE   WINDING   DELL. 

LONG  o'er  the  wastes  we've  wandered, 

Through  cactus,  sage,  and  sand ; 
By  lonely  watch  have  pondered 

O'er  scenes  in  native  land, — 
Of  mothers,  sires,  and  brothers, 

Of  sisters  kind  and  true, 
And  fond  farewell  of  lovers, 

As  gliding  from  their  view. 

And  oft  the  painted  savage 

Has  flanked  our  weary  way, 
On  steeds  by  day  to  ravage, 

At  night  with  barb  to  slay; 
And  blanket-robed,  the  fallen 

We've  hidden  'neath  the  sod, 
With  throbbing  hearts,  then  left  them 

To  solitude — and  God  ! 

But  in  this  vale  of  verdure 

We  cease  the  wastes  to  roam, 
And  flocks  and  herds  will  nurture 

Around  a  cabin  home, 
And  soon  will  end  our  sorrow 

And  wandering  in  the  West, 
"  Short  marching  on  the  morrow 

To  gain  our  park  of  rest." 
114 


THE    WINDING  DELL.  115 

Thus  spake  the  belted  ranger 

Unto  his  pilgrim  sire  : 
"  We're  done  with  tramp  and  danger" 

Rang  round  the  blazing  fire. 
Repast  of  eve  is  ended, 

The  vesper  chant  is  sung  ; 
In  cheering  carols  blended 

Are  voice  of  old  and  young. 


As  when  the  heart  is  lightest 

Beware  of  tidings  drear, 
So  when  the  camp  is  brightest 

Oh,  watch  for  danger  near  ! 
Flash  !  sharp  the  rifle,  ringing 

Adown  the  winding  dell, 
And  deadly  bullet  singing 

To  ebbing  heart,  "Farewell.1 


And  feathered  barbs  are  flying 

Like  wintry  flakes  of  snow, 
And  ghastly  forms  are  lying 

As  strewn  by  torrents  flow. 
Scant  space  is  found  to  "cover* 

Around  the  camp-fire  bright, 
From  foes  that  round  us  hover 

In  gloom  of  starless  night. 


But  vengeance  speeds  the  rally 
And  mounted  gun  the  boom ; 

Fast  in  that  lovely  valley 

The  warrior  meets  his  doom. 


Il6  THE    WINDING  DELL. 

And  fierce  the  clang  of  sabre, 
That  tells  of  deadly  stroke; 

Strong  arm  has  ceased  to  labor, 
Proud  heart  in  death  is  broke. 

And  many  a  summer's  glory, 

And  many  a  winter's  snows, 
Shall  pass  ere  fades  the  story 

Of  how  these  mortal  foes 
Met  in  this  beauteous  valley, 

That  swells  this  winding  glen, — 
Met,  not  as  maidens  dally, 

But  quenched  their  hate  like  men, 

And  yet  the  turf  shall  brighten 

With  verdure  where  they  fell, 
And  long  their  bones  shall  whiten, 

Adown  the  winding  dell. 
And  ere  his  race  shall  wither, 

Or  kindred  leave  the  vale, 
The  red  man  wandering  thither 

Shall  still  recount  the  tale. 

And  yet  shall  reap  the  yeoman 

The  gladdening  sheaves  of  grain, 
Where  heart' s-blood  of  the  foemen 

Have  fertilized  the  plain. 
And  yet  shall  children  prattle, 

And  yet  shall  maiden  tread 
In  peace  this  vale  of  battle, 

With  garlands  for  the  dead. 


AFAR  FROM   THE   CITIES   AND   HAMLETS   OF 

MEN. 

68  AFAR  from  the  cities  and  hamlets  of  men, 

I  follow  the  streamlet  through  forest  and  glen  ; 
The  elk  with  proud  antlers  enlivens  the  bowers, 
And  brilliant  and  fragrant  the  meadows  with  flowers. 

Still  onward  I  wander,  till  startled  by  fear, 

69  As  thunders  from  heavens  unclouded  I  hear, 
And  rainbows  I  witness  high  spanning  the  walls 
Of  canons  deep  furrowed  by  lashing  of  falls. 

All  eager  I  hasten,  entranced  by  the  scene 
Of  cataracts  double  and  cascades  between, 
And  bright-tinted  buttress  to  pinnacles  high, — 
Base  deep  in  the  canon,  crest  piercing  the  sky. 

All  heedless  of  danger,  by  wild,  winding  way, 
I  haste,  'mid  the  halos,  the  thunder,  and  spray, 
?°Adown  to  the  lichens,  mist-nourished  and  green, 
Where  the  floods  as  a  deluge  from  heaven  are  seen. 

All  breathless  in  efforts  of  scaling  the  walls, 
'Mid  balsams  I  press  to  the  head  of  the  falls  ; 
And  there  'mid  the  spray  on  the  quivering  brink, 
Of  the  scenes  of  my  childhood,  far  distant,  I  think. 

As  then,  the  huge  boulders  in  rolling  amain 
I  greet  with  loud  shoutings,  re-echoed  again  ; 

117 


Il8  AFAR   FROM  THE    CITIES. 

And  cobbles  are  hurled  o'er  the  swift-rushing  stream, 
As  it  glides  from  my  view  like  a  phantom  or  dream. 

Then  along  the  wild  rapids,  by  cedars  o'erhung, 
Where  artist  ne'er  pencilled  nor  bard  ever  sung, 
And  flood-gates  of  torrents  from  mountains  of  snow 
Are  echoing  beside  me  above  and  below. 

And  here  in  this  grotto  deep-sheltered  and  warm, 
All  weary  I  slumber,  unheeding  the  storm, 
Whose  thunders  deep-rumbling  commingle  again 
With  the  spray  of  the  waters  whence  gathers  the  rain. 

No  clouds  fleck  the  terrace,  no  winds  reach  the  glen, 
When  to  life  and  its  struggles  I  waken  again, 
And  pensively  ponder  o'er  scenes  that  are  fled, 
Of  hopes  that  are  vanished,  of  friends  who  are  dead. 

And  life's  panorama  drear  passes  along, 
Mist-phantoms  commingled  of  sorrow  and  song, 
Alluring  each  promise,  but  failure  attends,— 
Foes  only  are  steadfast,  inconstant  are  friends. 

Unselfish  I've  struggled  to  benefit  men, 
Regretless  I  leave  them,  my  refuge  the  glen, 
Where  mist-nourished  flowers  and  carpets  of  green 
Commingling  in  bowers  like  Eden  are  seen. 

71  Henceforth  be  my  music  the  cataract's  roar 
My  refuge  the  grotto,  to  leave  nevermore  ; 
Light  halos  encircling  my  winding-sheet  be, 
A  tomb  be  the  pool  of  this  grotto  for  me, 
And  the  rainbow  my  pathway  of  spirit  set  free ! 


OH,  IS   THERE   IN   THIS   WORLD   SO    DREAR? 

OH,  is  there  in  this  world  so  drear 

A  scene  of  harrowing  pain 
Like  haunts  of  those  to  memory  dear 

We  ne'er  shall  meet  again? 

72In  crumbling  home  of  friends  afar 

The  wolf  and  vulture  dwell, 
And  screams  and  howls  deriding  mar 
The  scenes  once  loved  so  well. 

73  Above  the  ceaseless  dash  and  roar, 
Where  mountain  torrents  greet, 
The  famished  eagles  circling  soar, 
And  fierce  cayoutas  meet. 

And,  all  unbidden,  memory  turns 

To  bloody  scenes  again, 
And  only  slumbering  ire  burns 

With  vengeance  for  the  slain. 

And  throbbing  heart  instinctive  swells, 

And  surging  pulse  is  wild, 
As  weapons  gleam  whose  ringing  knells 

Count  coups*  on  race  defiled. 

Will  tourist  yet  who  safely  roams 
With  buoyant  hope  and  tread, 

Flowers  pluck  amid  the  bleaching  bones 
Of  us,  the  unknown  dead  ? 

*  Scalps. 

119 


I  20      OH,  IS  THERE  IN  THIS  WORLD  SO  DREAR  ? 

And  will  the  bards  here  yet  to  sing 

Know  aught  or  care  for  those 
Whose  music  was  the  rifle's  ring, 

And  couch  the  mountain  snows? 

Who  oft  alone  in  mountain  glen, 

Or  bands  in  valley  strife, 
As  heroes  lived,  and  died  as  men 

Who  dearly  sell  their  life  ? 

Oh,  is  there  land  of  peace  and  rest 

For  wanderers  below, 
Where  yet  the  weary  shall  be  blest, 

Where  soothing  waters  flow  ? 

Where  reunite  the  mountain  band, 
Where  each  shall  know  a  friend  ? 

And  dwell  for  aye  in  Mystic-Land, 
Where  kindred  spirits  blend  ? 

Ah,  yes,  ah,  yes,  such  land  and  home, 

Such  rest  and  kindred  shore  ! 
Where  friends  shall  greet,  and  foes  may  come, 

But  meet  as  foes  no  more ! 


TO   THE   TIE   AT   HOME. 

OH,  thou  who  dreads  my  starting, 

Far  o'er  the  West  to  roam, 
Whose  tears  endear  our  parting, 

Whose  smiles  allure  me  home  ! 

74  Far  away  on  the  cliffs  of  this  wild  roaring  river, 
I  remember  the  rill  near  the  cot  of  my  bride ; 

Home-trail  with  that  bride   through  the  wild-wood  to 
gether 
On  our  morning  of  union,  of  hope,  and  of  pride. 

Of  the  long  years  of  toil  and  of  hardships  together, 
Rude  tomb  of  our  first-born,  in  the  forest  alone ; 

Fond  hopes  o'er  the  fair  locks  of  those  we  thought  never 
Would  eager  forsake  us  for  strangers  unknown. 

Of  the  dark  days  of  war,  of  bloodshed  and  sorrow, 
When  thou  girded  my  sword  with  a  tear  and  a  prayer 

That  from  the  fierce  strife  and  the  carnage  of  morrow 
I  safe  might  return  to  thy  fond  arms  so  fair. 

In  the  halls  of  my  country,  when  the  conflict  was  o'er, 
Thy  soft  cheeks  were  blooming  with  pride  and  with 

love 

For  him  thou  dreamed  fondly  would  leave  thee  no  more 
Till  called  to  sweet  rest  in  the  mansions  above. 
F  ii  121 


I22  TO    THE    TIE  AT  HOME. 

But  the  years  have  rolled  onward,  our  children  are  gone  j 
Time  has  blighted  our  vision,  our  thin  locks  are  gray; 

In  a  far  distant  region  I'm  weary  and  'lorn  ; 

As  the  dew  of  the  morning  earth's  hopes  fade  away. 

Oh,  bright  through  the  cedars  the  visions  that  steal, 
The  light-circling  halos  ascending  in  spray  ; 

Oh,  pathway  is  this  to  the  land  o'  the  leal? 
And  life,  as  these  waters,  thus  gliding  away  ? 

Yet,  loved  one  to  me,  thou  art  still  ever  young ; 

All  rosy  thy  cheeks  and  bright  beaming  thine  eye ; 
When  pale  are  these  roses,  life's  harp  sleeps  unstrung. 

In  the  green  groves  of  Eden,  oh,  meet  me!    Good -by! 


THE   WARRIOR'S   GRAVE. 

FAINT  wane  the  hopes  of  loved  ones 
To  greet  their  honored  dead  ; 

Chill  howl  the  storms  of  winter 
Around  his  mountain  bed. 

Fierce  scream  the  wolf  and  raven 

Around  the  vacant  grave ; 
Earnest  the  search  of  comrade 

For  relics  of  the  brave. 

75  A  mould'ring  plate  and  headboard, 

Carved  on  the  field  of  gore 
By  sword  of  faithful  comrade, — 

His  name  and  date, — no  more. 

These  records,  faint  but  truthful, 

Tell  where  he  fell  and  died ; 
Commingling  bones  of  foeman 

Bleach  on  the  mountain-side. 

Through  mountain  gorge  and  tempest, 

By  ancient  friend  alone, 
These  relics  of  our  hero 

Were  borne  to  friends  who  moan. 

Is  this  meet  tomb  for  hero 

On  countless  fields  of  strife  ? 
And  this  reward  for  yielding 

Home,  happiness,  and  life? 

123 


124  THE    WARRIOR'S   GRAVE. 

'Tis  not  a  realm  of  justice, 
Nor  yet  of  Eden's  bowers ; 

Too  oft  of  wrong  and  suffering, 
This  cruel  world  of  .ours. 

Oh,  rather  choose  the  sharing 
A  humble  home  of  love, 

And  wisely  there  preparing 
For  Eden's  bowers  above  ! 


I   SING   IN   SONGS. 

I  SING  in  songs  of  gliding  lays 
Of  forest  scenes  in  border  days ; 
Of  rippling  rills  in  valleys  green, 
And  mirrored  hills  in  lakelet  sheen  ; 
Of  mountain-peaks  begirt  with  snow, 
And  flowery  parks,  pine-girt  below; 
Of  daring  deeds  of  border  braves, 
On  dashing  steeds,  to  gory  graves ; 
Of  brawny  breast,  'neath  painted  plume, 
On  warrior's  crest,  in  dash  to  doom  ; 
Of  light  canoe  on  dashing  shore, 
And  daring  crew,  who'll  row  no  more; 
Of  goblins  grim  and  canons  grand, 
And  geysers  spouting  o'er  the  strand  ; 
Of  Mystic  Lake,  of  Wonder-Land  ; 

And  of  a  youth,  from  humble  home, 
To  parents'  help,  impelled  to  roam 
O'er  prairies  green  or  thirsty  plain, 
Or  dashing  streams,  that  mountains  drain  ; 
And  far  away  'mid  snows  to  roam, 
To  morsel  furnish  those  at  home  ; 
To  manhood  grown,  leaves  border  life, 
Prepares  a  home  and  seeks  a  wife ; 
Then  in  the  camp  or  council  pure, 
On  side  of  justice  ever  sure, 
Till  age  has  silvered  o'er  his  head, — 
Old  comrades  gone  and  loved  ones  dead, — 
ii*  125 


126  /  SING   IN  SONGS. 

Still,  as  the  oak,  leafless  and  shorn, 
Amid  a  forest,  rent  and  torn, 
Still  cheerful  waiting  for  the  day 
From  earthly  cares  to  pass  away, 
With  life  well  spent,  and  promise  plain 
That  losing  earth  he'll  heaven  gain. 


BLAZE   BRIGHTLY,  O  CAMP-FIRE  ! 

BLAZE  brightly,  O  camp-fire  !  beneath  the  dark  pines, 
While  sadly  the  hunter  'mid  trophies  reclines. 
Blow  blithely,  O  zephyrs  !  from  sweet-scented  vales, 
To  blending  untimely  in  moaning  and  wails, 
'Mid  snow-crested  mountains  in  fierce  howling  gales. 

How  oft,  'neath  the  branches  of  cedars  low  bent, 
Or  clustering  balsams,  for  refuge  intent, 
Have  I,  when  benighted  in  fast-falling  snow, 
Found  shelter  and  comfort  by  camp-fire  aglow 
That  none  but  a  climber  of  mountains  can  know ! 

And  there  have  I  pondered,  all  pensive  and  lone, 
On  days  that  are  vanished,  on  hopes  that  have  flown. 
My  birthplace  a  cottage  in  warm  flowery  grove, 
Kind  parents  and  brothers  and  sisters  to  love, 
And  Bible  and  Sabbaths  to  point  me  above. 

All  peaceful  my  slumbers,  all  happy  my  home ; 
No  visions  of  dangers,  no  longings  to  roam ; 
An  Eden  in  promise,  no  Eden  to  prove, 
But  a  thorn  with  a  rosebud,  a  blighting  in  love, 
And  far  from  that  Eden  I  wander  and  rove. 

All  slowly  but  surely  time  passes  away ; 
'Neath  willows  low  bending  friends  mingle  with  clay; 

127 


I28  BLAZE  BRIGHTLY,  O  CAMP-FIRE 

Uncounted,  in  circles  the  seasons  have  fled  ; 
Unnoticed,  these  tresses  are  bleaching  my  head ; 
Unconscious,  I'm  nearing  the  rest  of  the  dead. 

Howl,  tempest !  befitting,  the  thunders  that  roll, 

This  turmoil  in  bosom,  this  quaking  of  soul. 

A  long  life  reviewing  of  folly  and  pain, 

All  bubbles  its  pleasures,  its  struggles  in  vain, 

76  Earth's  treasures  all  vanished,  no  heaven  to  gain. 


UNION  OF  THE   VALLEYS. 

WHERE  the  broad,  romantic  valley  of  the  dashing  Yellow- 

stone  » 

Greets  Missouri's  turbid  waters,  far  toward  the  setting 

sun, 
Where  the  Man-dan  and  the  Te-ton,  with  the  Yank-ton 

and  the  Crow, 
And  the  bloody  Black-foot  Pe-gan,  with  the  British  Knis- 

te-naux, 
Meet  in  battle  on  the  war-horse,  or  in  bull-boat  float  at 

ease, 
There  was  built  the  stockade  "  Union,"  a  mart  of  fur 

amid  the  Rees. 

Long  around  that  distant  station  gathered  rovers  of  the 

plain, 
White  and  red,  of  every  nation,  such  as  ne'er  shall  meet 

again ; 

77  For  the  ever-fickle  river  veered  away  to  meet  its  mate, 

78  And  the  fort,  its  cache  and  lodges,  were  abandoned  to 

their  fate. 
Garnered  scenes,  by  sketch  of  Stanley,  Catlin's  brush,  or 

Irving's  pen, 
Of  trappers  true  and  voyageurs,  alone  survive  those  daring 


men. 


Now  again  the  painted  warrior,  'mid  the  ruins  of  the  past, 
Builds  his  teepee  and  his  earth-lodge,  master  of  the  site 
at  last. 

129 


I30  UNION  OF   THE    VALLEYS. 

Sweet  and  pleasant  is  the  memory  of  our  youthful  friends 

and  braves  ; 
Sad  and  lonely  'tis  to  wander  o'er  their  foe-betrodden 

graves ; 
But  the  ever-restless  white  man  savage  tribes  can  ne  er 

withstand ; 
Soon  the  pale-face  race  shall  conquer  and  possess   this 

valley  land. 

Then,  perchance,  o'er   graves   of   comrades   whom   the 

painted  savage  slew 
Cypress  boughs  and  wreaths  of  laurel  shall  entwine  o'er 

warriors  true. 
79  Oh,  for  bard  to  chant  their  requiem  !     Oh,  for  storied 

pen  to  save 
From   the  silence  of  oblivion  legends  of  the  true  and 

brave ! 
Like  the  union  of  these  valleys,  may  their  spirits  meet 

and  blend  ! 
Like  these  waters,  ever  gliding,  may  their  happiness  ne'er 

end! 


OH,  FOR  BARD  TO  TRULY  TREASURE 

80  OH,  for  bard  to  truly  treasure 

Border  scenes  of  days  agone  ! 
And  in  strains  of  thrilling  measure 
Garner  deeds  else  soon  unknown, 
Forest  scenes  ere  long  o'ergrown  ! 

Now  of  daring  deeds  of  yeomen 
Round  their  cabins  in  the  wilds, 

Then  of  voyageurs  when  the  foemen, 
By  their  ever  crafty  guiles, 
Drove  them  to  the  distant  isles ! 

As  of  Hans  along  the  Hudson, 

Then  the  wild  Manhattan  shore,— 

Now  a  mart  of  matchless  splendor, 
That  no  cloud  in  passing  o'er 
Mirrored  in  the  days  of  yore. 

Thus,  perchance,  the  haunt  of  trappers, 
Or  the  gulch  where  miners  dwell, 

Searching  for  the  hidden  treasures, 
Shall  for  toil  reward  them  well, 
And  the  wealth  of  nations  swell. 

Even  thus  the  bard  in  singing 
Strains  of  those  who  fighting  fell 

By  the  bolts  from  rifles  ringing, 
For  himself  may  harvest  well, 
And  the  works  of 'knowledge  swell. 


RUSTIC   BRIDGE   AND   CRYSTAL   FALLS. 

81  WILL  these  feet  that  trip  so  lightly 

O'er  this  structure  rude  but  strong, 
Or  these  eyes  which  beam  so  brightly, 
E'er  greet  scenes  more  meet  for  song? 


Skipping  rill  from  snowy  fountains 
Dashing  through  embow'red  walls, 

Fairy  dell  'mid  frowning  mountains, 
Grotto  pool  and  Crystal  Falls. 


Charming  dell,  begirt  with  wonders, 
Mighty  falls  on  either  hand, 

Quiet  glen  amid  their  thunders, 
Matchless,  save  in  Wonder-Land. 


O'er  their  mingled  mists  and  shadows 
Rainbows  beauteous,  tinted,  rise, 

And  their  ever-changing  halos 
Blend  and  vanish  in  the  skies. 


Shy  beneath  the  crystal  waters, 

In  the  grotto  of  the  glen, 
Sylvan  forms  of  nature's  daughters 
Sport  and  bathe  unseen  by  men. 
132 


RUSTIC   BRIDGE   AND   CRYSTAL    FALLS. 


134      RUSTIC  BRIDGE  AND   CRYSTAL   FALLS. 

Here  we  part,  perchance  forever, 
In  our  pilgrimage  below ; 

Yet  in  scenes  like  these  together, 
Above  may  we  each  other  know  ! 


HIGH   TOWERS   THE   CRAGGY   SUMMIT. 

H/GH  towers  the  craggy  summit,  begirt  with  glistening 

snow, 

Mirrored  in  emerald  lakelets  in  flowery  vales  below ; 
Proud  soars  the  fearless  eagle  around  the  frozen  crest, 
Low,  'mid  the  blooming  daisies,  the  turtle  builds  her  nest; 
Down  verdant  sloping  terrace  flow  sweetly  gliding  rills, 
Roars  cataract  like  thunder  in  echoes  'mid  the  hills; 
The  woolly-sheep  and  big-horn  trail  deep  in  mountain 

snow, 

82  And   beavers  build   their  wick-e-ups  where  warm   the 

waters  flow. 

83  Gigantic  wrecks  of  forests,  all  fossilized  to  stone, 

By  trailing  vines  and  cedars  are,  trellis-like,  o'ergrown ; 
Through  flowery  vales  the  river  meanders  on  its  way 
To  cataract  and  canon,  their  thunder,  mist,  and  spray; 
And  vales  of  blooming  roses  are  sheltered  deep  and  warm 
Amid  the  towering  mountains,  where  howls  the  Alpine 

storm ; 

With  zephyr-hiss,  the  ripples  glide  laughing  to  the  shore, 
Where  tempest-driven  billows  terrific  dash  and  roar ! 

In  all  these  blooming  valleys,  along  each  crystal  stream, 
And  snow-encircled  lakelet,  where  quivering  halos  gleam, 
These  labyrinths  of  goblins,  and  spouting  geysers  grand, 
Unnumbered  are  the   marvels  throughout  the  Wonder- 
Land  ; 


I36       HIGH  TOWERS   THE   CRAGGY  SUMMIT. 

As  wintry  storms  build  snow-fields,  and  summer  breezes 

thaw, 

84  All  nature  seems  in  contrast,  in  beauty,  size,  or  awe, — 
Creation,  growth,  and  ruin,  the  universal  law  ! 


LONELY  GLEN. 

83  'Tis  lion's  scream  resounding 

Adown  the  lonely  glen, 
Like  those  once  here  astounding, 

From  throats  of  savage  men ; 
When  angry  rifle  ringing, 

And  scorching  sulphur  smoke, 
And  deadly  bullet  singing, 

The  luring  silence  broke  ! 

Plumed  warriors  fierce  and  savage, 

With  hatchet,  lance,  and  knife, 
The  camp  of  tourist  ravage, 

And  seek  the  owner's  life ; 
Too  late  is  flight  for  safety, 

And  fight  with  savage  vain, — 
Soon  crimson  rill  joins  torrents 

That  snowy  mountains  drain  ! 

Are  these  the  brands  of  camp-fire  ? 

And  theirs  this  battered  plate  ? 
From  wounded  here  the  death-cry, 

For  mercy  came  too  late  ! 
Yes,  but  the  day  is  dawning 

Athwart  the  morning  star, 
To  saddle  fast,  a  warning, 

For  duty  calls  afar. 

12* 


137 


REYNOLDS' S   DIRGE. 

OH,  know  ye  the  coteaus  and  valleys  between, 
The  rose-tinted  bowers  and  meadows  of  green, 
And  pure  crystal  river,  from  mountains  of  snow, 
Encrimsoned  by  carnage  that  curdled  its  flow 
With  steeds  and  their  riders,  and  foemen  in  strife, 
Commingled  and  falling  'neath  hatchet  and  knife? 
And  the  rose  on  the  coteau  was  tinted  again 
With  crimson  fast  spouting  from  wounds  of  the  slain, 
When  Custer  led  phalanx  of  heroes  as  bold 
As  the  Greeks  or  the  Romans  in  legends  of  old 
To  ambush  and  slaughter,  and  mourning  in  homes 
Afar  from  where  tempests  are  bleaching  their  bones. 

I've  trailed  o'er  that  coteau  and  roamed  o'er  that  plain; 
In  that  valley  built  camp-fire  'mid  bones  of  the  slain. 
86  My  fagots  were  ruins  of  teepee  and  tent, 
'Mid  war-robes  and  blankets  all  gory  and  rent. 
There  at  eve  came  the  spirit  of  Charley  the  bold, 
Not  gory,  but  blooming,  the  hero  of  old, 
And  this  was  his  greeting  :   "All  welcome,  my  friend  ! 
The  clay  thou  art  seeking  has  gone  with  the  wind ; 
My  few  bones  remaining  by  the  willow  so  lone 
Take  homeward  returning  to  rest  with  thine  own. 
But  birthplace  or  kindred  cease  efforts  to  trace,— 
The  hatchet  has  slaughtered  the  last  of  my  race." 


138 


YES,   BE  IT  THUS. 

YES,  be  it  thus  j  the  die  is  cast, 

The  fatal  word  is  spoken  ; 
The  halo-cloud  of  charming  past 

And  chain  of  bondage  broken. 
Oh,  'mid  the  gloom  of  coming  years, 

Will  dreams  of  friends  forsaken, 
Or  shrunken  cheeks,  too  dry  for  tears, 

Remorse  or  shame  awaken  ? 

Will  visions  then  of  happy  days 

In  snow-girt  park  or  valley, 
And  cheering  dreams  of  camp-fire  blaze, 

And  loving  song  and  sally, 
Blend  sweet  with  those  of  wavy  brow, 

Where  pledges  fair  were  riven, 
And  quivering  lips  renew  the  vow 

To  meet  again  in  heaven  ? 


139 


IN   CABIN,  CAMP,  OR   COUNCIL. 

87  IN  cabin,  camp,  or  council,  in  husbandry  or  war, 

In  sunny  native  valleys  or  snowy  mountains  far, 

Two  kindred  spirits  blended,  alike  their  acts  and  aims,— 

Their  earthly  duties  ended,  together  find  their  names. 

Mount  Washburn   and   Mount   Norris   like   battlements 

arise ; 

O'er  cataract  and  canon  their  summits  pierce  the  skies; 
Path-seeker  and  path-maker,  personified  to  stand, 
Enduring  guide  for  tourists  throughout  the  "Wonder- 

Land." 


140 


YES,  EVERY   ONE   A   MAN. 

I'VE  trailed  the  proud  Missouri 

Till  fountain  rill  I  stride, 
And  founts  of  the  Missoula, 

Adown  the  sunny  side ; 
Till  countless  rills  in  blending 

A  mighty  river  form, 
And  from  the  Hell-Gate  Canon 

I  greet  a  valley  warm. 

And  here  a  town  I  enter, 

A  shoeing  shop  and  mill, 
A  tavern  in  the  centre, 

And  corral  on  the  hill ; 
A  score  of  earth-roofed  cabins, 

A  rum  and  gambling  lair, 
John  Chinaman  and  laundry, 

And  teepees  here  and  there. 

And  lo  !  a  belted  ranger, 

A  chum  in  days  of  yore, 
Shouts,  "  Well,  how  are  you,  stranger? 

Let's  shake  your  paw  once  more." 
Full  soon  we  drank  to  courage, 

And  loud  the  toast  and  song, 
And  glasses  quaffed  to  comrades 

Far  o'er  the  mountains  gone. 

141 


YES,  EVERY  ONE  A   MAN. 

And  in  the  morn  we  ramble 

Beside  a  mountain  rill, 
Till  silent  camp  we  enter 

Upon  a  sunny  hill ; 
And  here  we  halt  to  ponder 

Beside  each  turfy  home 
Of  those  who  no  more  wander, 

Of  those  who've  ceased  to  roam, 

And  here  we  gaze  in  silence 

Upon  the  hillocks  green, 
The  moaning  pines  and  balsams, 

And  brilliant  flowers  between, 
Until  my  ancient  comrade, 

With  quivering  lip  and  breath, 
Recalls  each  name  and  story, 

And  manner  of  his  death. 

"  Beneath  this  branched  cedar 

Sleeps  comrade  true  and  brave, 
Who  ever  trod  the  war-path 

The  innocent  to  save ; 
But  as  the  rescuing  seaman 

Oft  sinks  beneath  the  wave, 
So  Harry  fell  for  others, 

And  here's  his  lowly  grave. 

"  Here's  Ned,  the  daring  trapper 
Along  the  Yellowstone, 

Who  scaled  the  snowy  mountains, 
And  gulches  trod  alone ; 

But  while  he  trapped  the  beaver, 
To  sell  his  coat  so  fair, 


YES,  EVERY  ONE  A   MAN.  143 

The  Bannocks  trailed  the  trapper 

Unto  his  brushy  lair, 
And  here  his  bones  are  mould' ring, 

While  they  retain  his  hair. 

"  Here's  Jack  and  Bill,  the  brothers, 

Who  left  a  happy  home, 
And  loving  friends  and  sweethearts, 

The  western  wilds  to  roam 
In  search  of  gold  and  romance 

But  trailed  and  toiled  in  vain  ; 
While  bravely  fighting  Koot-nays* 

Were  numbered  with  the  slain, 
And  their  bleaching  bones  we  gathered 

Along  the  Cceur  d'Alene.f 

"  When  melting  snows  were  foaming 

Adown  the  Blackfoot  Gorge, 
En  route  from  winter's  roaming, 

Encamped  was  daring  George 
Upon  a  narrow  terrace, 

Beneath  its  rocky  walls, 
Whence  icy  waters  swept  him 

Relentless  o'er  the  falls. 

"Upon  the  roaring  Loo-Loo, 

In  howling  wintry  storm, 
Nor  fire  nor  tent  nor  teepee, 

Or  robe  to  keep  them  warm, 
These  brothers  braved  the  tempest 

Till  chilled  was  curdling  tide, 
Then  robed  in  snowy  blankets, 

Together  clasped  they  died. 

*  Indians  of  the  Koot-e-nay  tribe. 
•j-  Pronounced  cor-de-lane. 


I44  YES,  EVERY  ONE  A   MAN. 

"  Nor  least,  but  last  and  saddest, 

The  fate  of  comrades  here, 
Who  closed  a  drinking  frolic 

Around  a  bloody  bier ; 
And  then  their  wrathful  comrades, 

As  vigilants  arrayed, 
O'er  forked  pine  threw  lasso, 

And  in  a  noose  each  swayed, 
And  sadly  'neath  these  willows 

In  morn  these  three  were  laid. 

"  Ah,  yes,  their  vigils  keeping, 

Above  the  torrent's  roar, 
Each  peacefully  is  sleeping, 

All  here  the  twenty-four, 
All  here  in  glory  lying, 

From  foe  no  coward  ran, 
Each  spur  and  booted  dying, 

Yes,  every  one  a  man  !" 


THE   ARTIST   STANLEY. 

O  ARTIST  !  true  artist  I  who  far  in  the  West, 
O'er  coulee  and  coteau  and  bleak  mountain-crest, 
'Mid  Mo-doc  and  Man-dan,  Brule,  Black-foot,  and  Crow, 
Bronzed  teepee  and  totem,  lance,  quiver,  and  bow ! 

O  painter  !  who  painted  o'er  prairie  and  plain 
The  lodge  of  the  living,  the  cairn  of  the  slain, 
Proud  plume  of  the  warrior,  and  maiden  so  shy, 
And  prisoner  firm-bound  'mid  the  fagots  to  die  ! 

O  limner  !  bold  limner  !  on  war-trail  or  street, 
On  moor  or  on  mountain  no  more  shall  we  meet ; 
Thy  paintings  portray  thee  more  life-like  than  song, 
More  valued  and  lauded  as  time  glides  along  ! 

O  Stanley  !  brave  Stanley  !  thy  rambles  are  o'er, 

And  brush  laid  aside, — thou  wilt  need  it  no  more  ! 

88  But    "Uncas"    and  "War-path"   and   "Signal"   shall 

stay 
When   thy  head,  heart,  and  hand  have  long  moulder'd 

away. 

O  Eden  !  pure  Eden  !  sweet  home  of  the  blest, 
Where  the  brave  and  the  loving  in  harmony  rest, 
May  painter  and  poet  in  ecstasy  blend 
With  saints  and  with  angels  in  bliss  without  end  ! 
G       k  13  145 


MIN-NE-HA-HA. 

BREEZES  briskly  blowing, 
Waters  brightly  flowing, 

Thine,  Min-ne-ha-ha. 
Warriors  bold  are  banished, 
Maidens  dusky  vanished, 

From  Min-ne-ha-ha. 
Another  race  are  sowing, 
Or  with  chariots  mowing, 
Lovely  cities  growing, 

Round  Min-ne-ha-ha. 
Until  time  be  ended 
Be  thy  beauties  blended, 

Sweet  Min-ne-ha-ha ! 


146 


LOVELY   RIVER. 

FLOW  on,  thou  lovely  river  ! 

Go  smiling  on  thy  way, 
And  gathered  floods  deliver, 

In  thunder,  mist,  and  spray, 
Amid  the  arching  rainbows, 

High  o'er  the  triple  falls, 
Where  quivering  mystic  halos 

Bright  tint  the  canon  walls. 

E'en  thus  may  life,  in  gliding 

Adown  the  stream  of  time, 
Glean  wealth  and  worth  abiding 

From  many  a  sunny  clime. 
Nor  soul  on  brink  to  shiver, 

But  boldly  launch  away, 
Joyous  to  meet  its  Giver 

In  realms  of  radiant  day. 


BURIAL   TEEPEE. 

AMID  the  Judith  Bad  Lands,  beside  the  Mussel -shell, 
89  The  Ab-sar-a-ka  chieftain  most  bravely  fighting  fell ; 
Fighting  the  Si-oux  savage,  to  save  his  pale-face  friend, 
His  list  of  gallant  battles  came  to  a  glorious  end. 

When  the  bloody  strife  was  ended,  and  weapons  ceased 

to  gleam 

Within  the  snowy  canon  and  along  the  sunny  stream, 
'Mid  reeking  scalps  of  foemen,  lashed  to  his  steed  of 

foam, 
In  triumph  sad  they  bore  him  unto  his  silent  home. 

In  gorgeous  war-tent  teepee  once  captured  from  his  foes, 
He's   near    Camp    Lewis  sleeping,    in    dreamless,   sweet 

repose, 
With  lance  and  cross  o'er  doorway,  rich  trophies  there 

abound, 
With   Black-feet   scalps   above  him,   and    Si-oux   scalps 

around ; 

To-tems  of  saint  and  savage,  of  white  man  and  of  red, 
In  brilliant  colors  painted  above  the  mighty  dead ; 
There  let  him  rest  in  triumph,  and  moulder  into  dust, 
His  spirit's  with  Wa-kan-da,  on  whom  he  set  his  trust. 


148 


BOLD   TRAPPER   OF   THE   CAMP-FIRE. 

90  BOLD  trapper  of  the  camp-fire 

In  thy  daring  days  of  youth, 
Meek  Christian  when  a  grandsire 
On  the  homeward  trails  of  truth. 

Proud  rover  of  the  mountains, 

Scaled  thou  oft  the  snowy  crest ; 
-   In  vale  of  emerald  fountains 
Lowly  is  thy  couch  of  rest. 

Thy  war-path  days  are  ended, 
Ranch  in  heaven's  park  begun  ; 

There  may  our  trails  be  blended, 
And  our -camps  and  comrades  one  ! 


149 


THE   WARRIOR'S   DIRGE. 

91  GONE,  brave  brother,  gone  from  the  suffering  and  strife, 
Commencing  with  birth,  only  closing  with  life ; 
Through  tbe  red  fields  of  war  spared  in  safety  to  roam, 
Life's  duties  all  o'er,  rest  with  loved  ones  at  home. 

May  thy  myrtle-wreaths  won  in  the  blooming  of  youth, 
In  the  halls  of  the  schools  or  the  chapels  of  truth, 
Entwine  with  the  laurel-bays  earned  on  the  field, 
Where  glory  is  carved  by  the  sabre's  bold  wield  ! 

And  who  are  thy  friends  in  the  land  o'  the  leal, 
The  warriors  in  mail,  with  their  helmets  of  steel,— 
A  Wallace,  a  Bruce,  or  an  archer,  as  Tell, 
In  triumph  who  lived,  or  in  victory  fell? 

And  still  dost  thou  view,  on  the  coteau  or  plain, 
Charge  of  golden-haired  chief  to  the  carnage  again  ; 
And  thy  comrades,  alas  !  all  lifeless  and  lorn, 
Asleep  where  they  fought,  'mid  the  cactus  and  thorn? 

And  view  ye  the  reapers,  with  carbine  and  sword, 

In  the  field  of  war-bonnets  and  plumes  by  the  ford  ; 

And  the  riderless  steeds,  careering  again, 

O'er  the  thick-scattered  sheaves  on  the  harvest  of  slain? 

Avaunt  with  such  deeds  by  the  dwellers  of  earth  ! 
T  ie  grim  scenes  of  war,  or  its  revels  and  mirth  ! 
Far  better  the  acts  and  the  mansions  of  those 
Who  pruning-hooks  make  of  the  spears  of  their  foes, 
150 


THE    WARRIOR'S  DIRGE.  j: 

Ho,  signal  the  giants  of  carnage  and  gain  ! 
Come,  spend  ye  a  night  with  the  ghosts  of  your  slain  1 
Then  turn,  if  ye  will,  to  your  slaughter  and  lust, 
Brief  heyday  of  revel,  then  moulder  in  dust. 

And  where  the  immortal,  the  God-given  soul? 
Its  mansion  eternal,  is  heaven  its  goal, 
Or  sinks  it  in  sorrow  with  spirits  akin, 
Their  sharers  in  crime  and  the  heralds  of  sin  ? 

Oh,  better  the  reapers  with  sickles  of  right, 
Who  cleave  for  the  gleaners  of  freedom  and  light ; 
And  as  sheaves  from  the  harvest  they  bring  at  its  close, 
Bright  bundles  of  friends  they  have  won  of  their  foes. 

Soul-cheering  the  hope  of  a  land  far  away, 
And  the  reveille  call  at  the  dawn  of  the  day, 
When  the  heroes  of  earth  shall  immortal  ascend, 
With  laurels  bedecked  and  where  angels  attend. 


CYPRESS   SHADOWS. 

92 "  WHERE  the  long  reeds  quiver,  where  the  pines  make 

moan, 

By  the  forest  river  sleeps  our  babe  alone." 
Thus  a  yearning  mother,  in  a  flowery  grove, 
Seeks  her  sobs  to  smother  with  a  chant  of  love : 
"  England's  field-flowers  blooming  may  not  deck  his  grave ; 
Cypress  shadows,  looming  o'er  him,  darkly  wave." 

•'  Far  away  we  journeyed  from  our  native  land, 
O'er  the  briny  ocean,  o'er  the  burning  sand ; 
For  my  loved  ones  hoping,  thus  I  wandered  far, 
Hence  this  loving  bosom  bears  a  cureless  scar. 
'Neath  the  pine-tops  moaning,  in  his  lowly  grave, 
I  leave  a  pledge  of  heaven,  other  gems  to  save. 

"  In  my  weary  wanderings  to  a  land  afar, 
In  my  camp-fire  visions  will  a  twinkling  star, 
'Mid  the  waving  shadows,  smiling  sweet  and  fair, 
From  the  azure  heavens,  guide  me  where  you  are, — 
Not  this  tomb  so  lowly,  where  the  shadows  lie, 
But  in  regions  holy,  far  beyond  the  sky  ? 

"  Hence,  in  wanderings  dreary  in  the  mighty  West, 
When  my  way  is  weary  and  my  heart  oppressed, 
As  I  count  my  jewels,  shall  this  shining  star 
Fill  the  broken  circlet,  and  guide  me  where  you  are, — 
Not  beneath  the  cypress,  'mid  the  forest  gloom, 
But  in  bowers  of  Eden,  bright  with  love  and  bloom  ?" 
152 


I'VE   TRAILED   THE    PROUD    COLUMBIA. 

I'VE  trailed  the  proud  Columbia,  from  fountain-head  in 

snows, 

To  where  the  bold  Shoshone  through  lava-desert  flows ; 
Have  crossed  the  pass  St.  Regis  and  lake  of  Coeur  d' Alene, 
The  lovely  glades  of  Camas  and  lava-girt  Spokane  ; 
Have  searched  the  lovely  grottos,  and  scaled  their  rugged 

walls, 
And  traced  the  Peluse  turbid  unto  its  sacred  falls. 

93  And  here  I  pause  and  ponder  at  trace  of  friend  of  old, 
An  orphan  left  to  wander  before  the  days  of  gold. 
A  home  he  found  in  teepee  of  Spokane  chieftain  true, 
And  rollicked  with  the  kam-ooks,*  and  as  a  pappoose 

grew; 
With  squaws  he  dug  the  camas,  the  maize  he  learned  to 

grind, 
And  strode  the  loping  pinto,  with  naked  squaw  behind. 

Nor  aught  knew  he  of  kindred,  nor  cared  he  for  his  race, 
Until  his  form  expanded  and  bearded  grew  his  face. 
"Than  water  blood  is  thicker"  is  proverb  old  and  true, 
And  thus  his  race  he  cherished  in  seeking  comrades  new; 
And  when  the  blazing  signal,  from  mountain-crest  afar, 
Warned  him  of  bloody  onset  and  unrelenting  war 
By  friends  of  his  adoption  against  those  of  his  birth, 
With  parting  kiss  to  sister,  he  boldly  sallied  forth. 

*  Kam'-ooks,  dogs. 

153 


I54      PVE    TRAILED    THE   PROUD    COLUMBIA. 

In  vain   the  war-whoop  ringing  roused  warriors  to  his 

trail ; 

Nor  deadly  bullet  singing,  nor  loping  steeds  prevail. 
His  pinto  through  the  valley  far  led  them  in  the  chase, 
Then  swam  the  Umatilla,  and  proudly  won  the  race  ; 
Nor  checked  his  foaming  charger  till  in  his  youth  and 

pride, 
Beneath  the  flag  of  Steptoe,  he  fought  as  scout  and  guide. 


Full  soon  the  conflict  opens  upon  Columbia's  plain, 
And  in  the  mountain  valleys  that  foaming  torrents  drain; 
Nor  time  to  let  the  story  of  fighting,  fierce  and  long, 
'Twixt  those  who  fought  for  glory  and  those  who,  doubly 

strong, 
Fought  in  their  native  valleys,  fought  o'er  their  fathers' 

graves, 
Fought  by  their  blazing  teepees,  and  'mid  their  dying 

braves, 
Chose  death  in  gory  blankets  to  life  as  cringing  slaves. 


Thus  back  they  hurled  the  pale-face  when  Steptoe's  fight 

was  o'er, 

And  to  the  Peluse  sacred  their  trail  was  red  with  gore. 
That  weary  moons  the  remnant  they  sorely  did  invest, 
With  famished  pinto  rations  those  bleaching  bones  attest; 
And  only  for  the  salmon  that  crpwd  the  narrow  stream, 
No  pale-face  from  that  canon  would  living  e'er  been  seen ; 
For  lo  !  an  old  tradition  of  generations  gone 
Declared  the  salmon  sacred  below  the  falls  to  spawn, 
Till,  lest  the  sacred  fishes  should  feed  the  foe  they  fear, 
The  Chenooks  check  their  running  with  brushy  dam  and 

weir. 


PVE    TRAILED    THE   PROUD    COLUMBIA.      I55 

Oft  in  his  pangs  of  hunger  our  youth  would  hear  from 

those 

He  left  in  hour  of  danger  to  aid  their  mortal  foes. 
When  from  the  cliff  the  chieftain,  at  eve  when  all  was 

still, 
Would   ring  the  clarion  war-whoop  in  echoes  from  the 

hill, 
With  taunting  jeers,  "  Ho,  Sko-kum  !*  ho,  traitor  Til-la- 

koom  !f 
Your  Il-li-huJ  you're  viewing,  and  soon  you'll  meet  your 

doom  ! 

Ho,  reared  ye  in  my  teepee,  you  knave  in  long-knife  hire! 
You  traitor  to  my  children,  you  soon  shall  feel  my  ire, 
In  running  of  the  gantlet  or  roasting  in  the  fire  ! 

"  But  lest  your  death  be  speedy,  a  morsel  choice  I  give ; 
For  while  I'm  reaping  vengeance  I  want  you  still  to  live," 
As  the  shank  of  a  cay-ou-ta,  or  skull  of  car-a-bou, 
Or  putrid  head  of  salmon,  with  jeering  taunt  he  threw, 
Then  strode  away  in  triumph,  to  gloat  o'er  insult  new. 

Blend  with  his  steps  receding  on  the  air  of  evening  still, 
From  an  overhanging  cedar,  the  voice  of  whippoorwill, 
In  accents  low  and  mournful,  as  widowed  turtle-dove, 
"Oh,  list,  my  foster-brother!  oh,  hear,  my  truant  love  ! 
For  you  my  heart  is  breaking !"  in  accents  low  and  mild; 
It  was  the  voice  of  Noo-na,  the  chieftain's  darling  child. 

11  Why  left  ye  thus  our  teepee?  why  went  ye  thus  astray? 
And  from  my  arms  in  breaking  you  tore  my  heart  away. 


*  Sko'-kum,  brave.       f  Til'-la-koom,  enemy.       J  Il'-li-hu',  country. 


156      I'VE    TRAILED    THE   PROUD    COLUMBIA. 

Oh,  live  you  not  for  vengeance  my  sire  declares  your 

due, 

But  for  your  foster-sister,  your  Noo-na,  ever  true!" 
Then   sack  of  choicest   viands  from   towering  cliff  she 

threw, 
And  ere  his  blessings  reached  her  had  vanished  from  his 

view. 

Scarce  need  to  tell  the  sequel.     In  every  age  and  clime 
The  daring  deeds  of  lovers  was  ever  theme  sublime. 
Amid  the  scenes  that  follow,  of  carnage  on  the  plain, 
Escaped  the  daring  ranger  and  the  maiden  of  Spokane, 
And  in  a  hidden  valley  this  ranger  yeoman  tills ; 
Soon  bounteously  the  harvests  their  bridal  teepee  fills, 
And  rollick  on  the  pintos  their  brood  of  whippoorwills. 


HO,  WAKEN! 

94  Ho,  waken,  you  dwellers  in  chambers  of  clay, 
Arise  from  your  slumbers  and  welcome  the  day  ! 
Come  forth  from  your  prison,  flesh,  raiment,  and  arms, 
And  greet  us  with  welcome,  no  needless  alarms. 

We're  only  your  brothers  from  over  the  sea, 
Thus  rending  your  fetters  and  setting  you  free  • 
Stalk  forth  as  the  warriors  and  sorcerers  bold, 
And  greet  us  with  music  and  legends  of  old. 

Whose  flesh-covered  bones  strode  forth  as  a  brave 
In  the  battle-axe  combat?     Who's  cringed  as  a  slave? 
And  here  are  their  mothers  once  moaning  for  those 
Who  came  not  again  from  the  banquet  of  foes. 

93  And  whose  is  this  dust  in  these  chambers  beside? 
Mingled  ashes  of  those  who  as  patriots  died, 
At  the  stake  on  the  coteau  of  far-distant  plain, 
Or  the  torrents  of  gore  in  the  vale  of  the  slain  ? 

Or  are  they  the  ashes  of  sacrifice  grand 
To  the  gods  in  the  fires  of  a  priest-ridden  land, 
Where  mothers  oft  gave,  under  wizard  control, 
The  fruit  of  the  womb  for  the  weal  of  the  soul  ? 

And  how  came  these  shells  from  the  deep-rolling  waves 
Of  an  ocean  afar  to  these  prairie  land  graves  ? 

H  iS7 


158  HO,   WAKEN! 

And  what  were  the  viands  that  in  them  was  given 
To  nourish  the  soul  in  its  journey  to  heaven  ? 

96  And  why  are  these  ramparts  so  lofty  and  long 
Widespread  o'er  the  plains  where  the  antelope  throng, 
With  the  deer,  elk,  and  beaver,  and  elephant  grand, 
All  trailing  in  earth  to  a  sunnier  land  ? 

Whence  came  ye  ?     Where  wandered  ?     Or  perished  you 

here? 

As  a  race  are  ye  dwelling  where  proud  forests  rear 
Their  shafts  and  their  branches  defying  the  gales, 
O'er  a  people  asleep  in  their  own  native  vales. 

No  answer,  no  greeting,  nor  motion  nor  moans; 
Your  dwellings  still  crumble,  still  moulder  your  bones; 
Thus  careful  I  glean  from  this  chamber  of  clay 
These  relicts  for  science  in  halls  far  away. 

And  the  remnant  I  carefully  cover  again, 
Then  mournfully  hie  to  the  valley  or  plain, 
Sad  traces  to  find  in  the  cairns  of  the  dead 
Of  a  race  who  for  ages  uncounted  have  fled. 

All  pensive  I  muse  of  those  relicts  of  yore, 
The  labors  of  those  who  shall  labor  no  more, 
Then  wondering  turn  to  the  monuments  grand 
Of  the  race  that  now  governs  this  cairn-dotted  land. 

When  ages  uncounted  shall  circle  again 

And  this  race  of  proud  vandals  shall  sleep  with  the  slain, 

O'er  their  crumbling  ruins  of  iron  and  stone 

May  wander  the  warriors  of  races  unknown. 


NORTHERN   CLIME. 

97  FAINT  I  recall,  through  mists  of  time, 
The  thrilling  scenes  of  Northern  clime : 
The  outward  voyage  in  birch  canoe, 
As  home  and  friends  recede  from  view ; 
Then  long  blue  Huron's  pine-clad  shore, 
And  great  Superior's  waters  roar, 
Lake  of  the  Wilds,  and  penance  beg 
For  cursing  gnats  on  Winnepeg  ; 
And  then  with  buoyant  hope  and  song, 
With  pole  and  paddle  firm  and  strong, 
Ascend  thy  floods,  Sas-Katch-a-wan. 

Long  are  the  days,  but  circles  low 

The  orb  of  warmth  on  crests  of  snow, 

Which  tower  athwart  its  slanting  rays, 

And  seem  at  eve  with  gold  ablaze, 

Until  retinged  with  mellow  light 

By  silvery  rays  from  orb  of  night, 

Which  o'er  deep  canons  dim  at  noon 

Oft  soars  the  brilliant  "harvest  moon," — 

As  fair  as  in  our  distant  home, — 

To  cheer  us  as  we  toiling  roam, 

And  gild  the  dangers  yet  to  come. 

Oh,  these  brilliant  days   are  waning,  and  bitter  nights 

begun 
With  the  fading  moons  of  autumn  and  the  sinking  of 

the  sun ; 


j6o  NORTHERN  CLIME. 

Soon  all  the  narrow  valleys  wear  blankets  white  of  snow, 
And  icy  cinches*  hamper  the  mountain-torrents'  flow ; 
Canoes  are  left  for  sledges,  and  shaggy  kam-ooks  strong 
By  thong  are  driven  tandem  to  haul  our  goods  along. 
And  thus  we  northward  journey  among  the  Knis-te-neaux, 
In  trapping  of  the  beaver  or  slaying  car-a-bou, 
Or  trading  beads  and  blankets,  or  gaudy  trinkets  new, 
For  martin  pelts,  or  otter,  and  foxes  white  or  blue, 
Till  on  the  Ath-a-bas-can  we  build  a  stockade  new. 

Soon  our  Norwegian  snow-shoes  we  carve  of  sapling  long, 
Or  cunning  weave  the  web-foot  of  moose-wood  bark  and 

thong, 
Then   bold  in  winter's  twilight,  o'er  drifting  fields  c 

snow, 

We  trail  the  fox  and  shun-ka  and  trotting  car-a-bou, 
Or  'mid  the  cedar  thickets  or  stinted  balsams  green, 
The  moose,  the  shaggy  musk-ox,  or  crafty  wolverine, 
And  of  their  coats  we  fashion  huge  outer  garments  warm, 
Or  'neath  them,  rolled  in  blankets,  defy  the  Arctic  storm, 
Or  watch  the  wavy  halos  athwart  the  "  Northern  Pole," 
With  icy  fingers  clasping  to  tear  away  the  soul, 
The  while  their  matchless  splendors  o'er  all  the  heavens 

roll. 

When  from  such  scenes  returning,  with  weary  limbs  we 

come, 

And  by  the  fagots  burning  enjoy  our  wintry  home, 
In  vigils  long  and  soothing  in  place  of  slumbers  gone, 
When,  as  the  night-watch  shivering,  we  swell  our  muscle 

wan, 

Then  cheerful  join  the  frolics  dismissing  fear  and  care, 
On  snow-shoes  trail  the  ermine  or  fight  the  polar  bear, 

*  Cinches,  Spanish,  saddle-girths. 


NORTHERN  CLIME.  I6, 

Until  the  sun  returning  from  lengthened  wintry  night 
Reflects  from  icy  spangles  its  countless  gleams  of  light, 
With  joyous  shouts  of  welcome  that  Arctic  night  is  past, 
As  monks  from  fasting  penance  rejoin  in  grand  repast, 
And  shout  and  song  and  legend  around  our  blazing  fires, 
The  Cree,   the  Brule,  and  Briton,  and  sons  of  Pilgrim 

sires ; 
And  oft,  when  storms  are  howling,  join  in  the  circling 

dance 

The  brawny  lads  of  Scotland,  with  kilt  and  plume   as 
kance, 
The  jolly  heirs  of  Erin,  and  merry  sons  of  France. 

These  scenes  are  o'er,  bright  visions  fled 

Shall  meet  no  more, — the  actors  dead. 

Whose  graves,  alas  !  are  scattered  wide 

From  mountain-pass  to  ocean's  tide. 

Some  sleep  in  vaults  in  Christian  lands, 

Uncofrlned  some  in  desert  sands ; 

Some  fell  in  deadly  border  strife 

By  piercing  barb  or  gleaming  knife  ; 

Some  far  from  friends,  who  ne'er  shall  know 

Where  curdling  life-tides  ceased  to  flow, 

In  winding-sheet  of  Alpine  snow  ; 

Some  for  their  country  fought  and  fell, 

In  victory  shouting,  "All  is  well  !" 

The  booming  gun  their  funeral  knell, 

And  coming  bards  their  fame  shall  swell ; 

Lone  one,  as  bough  of  mistletoe, 

Clings  still  to  life  amid  the  snow; 

May  melting  torrents  here  below 

Strand  him  where  Eden's  streamlets  flow  J 


DE   SOTO. 

*  DAMP  was  the  day  and  dreary,  the  night  was  dark  and 

cold  ; 

Worn  were  my  limbs  and  weary,  my  refuge  hovel  old  ; 
While   Christmas  bells   were   jingling   in    merry  distant 

home, 
Rife  was   the    night  with   revels  where   duty  called    to 

roam. 

'Twas  by  the  Mississippi,  where  ancient  cypress  rear 
Above  the  sluggish  bayous  the  pendent  mosses  drear, 
With  fevered  brow  and  throbbing,  I  dreamed  or  seemed 

to  dream 
Of    stifled    moan    and    wailing,    and    flickering   torch's 

gleam ; 

A  group  of  grizzled  warriors  around  a  mossy  bed, 
And  priests  their  masses  chanting  for  the  spirit  of  the 

dead. 

It  was  the  proud  De  Soto,  by  strife  and  sorrow  slain, 
And  his  comrades  with  Pizarro,  the  cavaliers  of  Spain. 

Dim  through  the  shadows  o'er  them,  back  rolls  the  tide 

of  time, 
Till    plumed    and    mounted    warriors,    they    leave   their 

native  clime, 

And  'neath  its  floating  banners  embark  upon  the  main, 
Far  in  the  western  Indies  to  gold  and  glory  gain. 
Balmy  the  laughing  breezes  that  swell  their  eager  sails ; 
Eden  the  land  which  greets  them,  of  mountains,  hills,  and 

dales ; 
162 


DE  SO  TO.  !63 

Peaceful  the  chief  who  meets  them  upon  Peruvian  shore ; 
Patient  the  faithful  toilers,  who  bounteous  harvests  store; 
Fatal  the  hour  that  taught  them  to  wash  its  golden  sand ; 
Christians,  the  men  who  slew  them  with  sabre,  spear,  and 

brand ; 

Brazen  the  thanks  to  Heaven  for  gold  with  gory  stain 
By  these  comrades  of  Pizarro,  these  cavaliers  of  Spain. 

When  from  the  land  of  Incas  they  greet  its  placid  shore, 
Broad  looms  their  trail  of  plunder,  of  revelry  and  gore  ; 
And  of  the  winds  uniting  to  swell  their  waiting  sails, 
Laden  the  mountain  breezes  with  a  slaughtered  nation's 

wails. 

And  when  the  pillaged  Eden  recedes  beneath  the  waves, 
Nameless  the  scenes  of  revel  with  shackled  female  slaves. 
In  narrow  land  'twixt  oceans,  like  worthless  lemon-rind, 
As  feast  for  famished  vultures,  the  weak  are  left  behind. 
To  Spanish  isles  they  visit,  as  conquerors  they  come, 
And  loud  the  shouts  of  greeting,  the  trumpet,  fife,  and 

drum ; 
And   thus  as   Christian   warriors  they  leave  the   raging 

main, 
And  seek  their  native  valleys,  these  conquerors  from  Spain. 

Alas  !  the  shameful  story  of  banquets  long  and  grand. 
And  badges  bright  of  glory  from  prince  of  native  land. 
And  oft  the  thanks  to  Heaven,  and  loud  the  praise  of 

those 

Who  crossed  the  raging  ocean  to  " conquer  pagan  foes;" 
While  to  the  priests  in  masses,  for  fallen  comrades'  souls, 
Pile  high  Peruvian  plunder  and  Mexican  pistoles ; 
And  proudly-titled  maidens  caress  the  cheeks  of  those 
Dark-bronzed  in  scorching  deserts,  or  scarred  in  fighting 

foes. 


l64  DE   SO  TO. 

Then   from  their  prince  and   Heaven  a  title  good  and 

grand 

Is  to  De  Soto  given  for  realm  in  distant  land, 
Who  with  his  wealth  and  warriors  embarks  to  cross  the 

main, 
An  empire  new  to  conquer  for  Heaven  and  for  Spain. 

'Twas  on  the  isle  of  jewels  they  marshal  well  and  long, 
Then  cross'd   the  narrow  waters,  six  hundred  warriors 

strong, 
With  steeds  and  lance  and  carbine,  to  conquer  and  to 

hold 
The  land  of  healing  fountains,  of  glittering  gems  and 

gold; 
And  loud  the  thanks  to  Heaven,  and  tall  the  cross  they 

rear. 

('Twas  then  the  way  of  nations,  and  were  they  not  sin 
cere? 

Too  oft  we  judge  of  others  by  light  they  never  knew ; 
In  ages  past  or  coming  perchance  we'd  change  our  view.) 
Soon    reared    is   stockade   ample    for    those    they   leave 

behind, 
Then  with  their  steeds  and  banners  through  flowery  vales 

they  wind. 

Thus  forth  a  realm  to  conquer,  and  gold  and  glory  gain, 
Proud   tread   the   knights  of  Portugal  and  cavaliers   of 

Spain. 
'Twas  now  no  land  of  mountains,  of  terraced  slopes  and 

pines, 
But  sedgy  bogs  and  cane-brakes,  and  thorny  plants  and 

vines. 
Beneath  the  moaning  cypress  in  mourning  draped  they 

find 
No  greeting  friend  before  them,  but  lurking  foe  behind; 


DE  SO  TO.  l6s 

As  thus  for  moons  they  wander  through  forest,  fen,  or 

glade, 

By  sedgy  lakes  and  bayous  they  sorely  are  delayed, 
Till  Ortiz,  long  a  captive  unto  a  chieftain  grand, 
By  him  in  kindness  sent  them,  guides  safely  through  the 

land 

Unto  the  smiling  hamlets  of  a  people  tall  and  brave, 
Who  prize  a  sturdy  foeman,  but  scorn  a  cringing  slave, 
To  homes  of  shelter  welcome,    'mid   golden    fields   of 

grain, 
They  greet  the  famished  warriors,  the  cavaliers  of  Spain. 

Long  through  the  land  they  wander  in  search  of  gems 

and  gold 

In  vain,  and  surfer  hunger  and  sickness,  thirst  and  cold ; 
Oft   cheered    by    baseless    legends,    that   lead    them    far 

astray, 

In  pathless  rocky  regions  to  wend  their  weary  way, 
Till  from  a  craggy  summit  with  joyful  shout  they  gaze 
Upon  a  land  of  hamlets  and  golden  fields  of  maize. 
A  chieftain  had  each  village,  its  temple  and  its  priest, 
And  robes  and  signs  and  seasons  for  sacrifice  and  feast. 
High   in   the   level  valley  broad  mounds  of  earth   they 

raise 

For  lofty  halls  of  chieftain,  of  council,  or  for  praise, 
And  palisades  encircle  the  hamlets  of  the  plain, 
When  greeted  by  these  pilgrims,  the  cavaliers  of  Spain. 

In  welcome  through  the  valleys  they  eat  and  take  their 

fill; 

Resistless  in  the  hamlets,  they  revel,  rob,  and  kill ; 
And  chieftain  hold  as  hostage,  to  furnish  slaves  to  bear 
The  burdens  of  the  victors,  relieved  from  toil  and  care, 


,66  DE  SO  TO. 

Until  from  Tas-ta-lu-ca  they  cross  Pi-u-che's  stream, 
And  view  within  Mau-il-la  the  spears  of  warriors  gleam. 
In  parley  brief  the  chieftain,  the  hostage,  and  the  slave, 
Exchange    the    fetters   galling    for    the  weapons   of  the 

brave ; 

And  then  the  slave  and  captor  as  sturdy  warriors  meet, 
With  battle-axe  and  sabre,  all  fight  and  none  retreat. 
But  breast  to  breast,  with  blow  and  thrust,  fast  pile  the 

heaps  of  slain, 
The  warriors'  doom,    in   paint   and    plume,   and   belted 

knights  of  Spain. 


Oh,  hasten,  bold  Moscoso,  charge  fearless  o'er  the  plain, 
Ride  down  and  thrust  the  foeman,  and  broader  strew  the 

slain. 

From  fallen  steed  De  Soto  remounts  to  quick  restore 
To  ranks  the  warriors  quenching  their  thirst  'mid  pools 

of  gore. 

From  these  the  shout  of  battle  and  bugle-blast  prolong, 
From  those  the  clarion  war-whoop  and  dying  battle-song. 
The  shafts  of  stalwart  warriors,  fast  as  the  mountain  hail, 
Crash  through  the  shield  and  helmet,  and  pierce  the  coat 

of  mail ; 
And    feathered   barbs  are  flying,   like  wintry  flakes  of 

snow, 

And  ghastly  wounds  are  spouting,  as  geysers  jet  and  flow. 
Earth  moans,  as  o'er  her  bosom  fast  flows  the  crimson 

tide 
From  wounds  of  countless  peasants  who  round  their  altars 

died  ; 
And  'neath  the  hoof  of  chargers,  through  trellised  hills 

and  dales, 
Transpierced  by  lance  and  sabre,  arise  the  dying  wails, 


DE   SO  TO.  I6y 

When  lo  !    from  fiery  torches,  hurled  'mid   the  thatchy 

roofs, 
A  thousand   red-tongued   monsters    career  with   blazing 

hoofs ; 

A  lurid  hell,  they  revel  o'er  maid  and  peasant  slain, 
And  to  it  force  the  living,  the  mounted  knights  of  Spain. 

Grim  sinks  the  king  of  splendor  behind  the  field  of  flame  ; 

Pale  beams  the  queen  of  evening  above  the  scene  of 
shame  ; 

Shrill  rings  the  taunt  defiant  from  warriors  in  the  glade; 

Chill  grow  the  faint  and  dying,  on  gory  couches  laid. 

No  warming  draught  nor  bandage,  nor  lint  to  stanch  a 
wound ; 

None  from  the  smouldering  ruins  will  evermore  be  found. 

Faint  throbs  the  ebbing  lifetide  on  weary  comrade's 
breast ; 

Faint,  fainter  still  and  flickering,  and  two  warriors  are  at 
rest. 

Sad  is  the  dirge  and  wailing,  and  muffled  drum  and  fife, 

'Neath  banners  draped  and  tattered,  and  pierced  in 
bloody  strife ; 

Reversed  their  swords  and  lances,  and  slow  their  meas 
ured  tread, 

As  sadly  on  the  morrow  they  bear  the  mangled  dead. 

"Amid  the  holly  shadows,  upon  the  gory  plain, 

Uncoffined  sleep  and  moulder  two  hundred  sons  of  Spain. 

Dim  fades  the  gloomy  vision,  as  wandering  far  and  wide, 
Through  countless  tramps  and   battles,  to  Mississippi's 

tide ; 

High  o'er  the  waters  rolling  resistless  to  the  main 
They  rear  the  cross  as  Christians,  and  claim  the  land  for 

Spain ; 


x68  DE  SO  TO. 

Then  o'er  its  turbid  waters  still  onward  far  they  roam 
Through  countless  vales  and  hamlets,  nor  seek  nor  merit 

home, 

Till  in  the  craggy  mountains  these  pilgrims,  seeking  gold, 
Fade  as  the  leaves  of  autumn  from  hunger,  thirst,  and 

cold ; 
Then  southward,  weary  wandering  through  wintry  wind 

and  storm, 

Till  on  the  bold  Arkansas  they  sleep  in  hamlets  warm. 
The  prayers  of  peaceful  owners  for  recompense  were  vain; 
Naught  had  they  left  to  give  them,  these  wanderers  from 

Spain. 


Time,  strife,  and  suffering  dispel  their  golden  dreams ; 
Homeward  they  turn  in  spring-time  adown  the  swollen 

streams, 

Until  the  Mississippi  they  shouting  greet  again, 
Far  down  its  turbid  waters,  anear  the  briny  main ; 
But  weary,  wan,  and  sinking,  and  sadly  needing  those 
Whose  bones,  alas  !    are  bleaching  along  their  trail  of 

woes, 

To  build  them  barks  of  safety,  yet  haughty  to  the  last, 
Supplies  demand  of  chieftain  of  maize  and  service  vast. 
No  cringing  menial  answer,  but  haughty  chief  of  braves, — 
"Of  me,  the  prince  of  warriors,  claim  food  and  toiling 

slaves ; 

And  jw/,  the  heir  of  Heaven,  the  son  of  rolling  sphere, 
Dry  up  the  mighty  river,  then  come,  you'll  find  me  here. 
If  friend,  I'll  greet  you  grandly;  if  foe,  no  bended  knee 
Be  stool  for  mounting  charger;  in  life  or  death  we're 

free." 

A  peer  has  met  De  Soto ;  another  waiting  stands ; 
It  is  remorse's  fever  and  'vengeful  reeking  hands, 


DE   SOTO.  J6g 

Which    from    his   couch  of  anguish,   as  galling  captive 

chain, 
Drag  'neath  the  turbid  waters  this  cavalier  of  Spain. 

Dim  through  the  murky  shadows  I  view  Moscoso's  band, 
Far  wandering  through  the  deserts  in  search  of  golden 

land  ; 

A  remnant  fierce  and  famished  to  Rio  Grande*  return, 
One  hamlet  fill  with  plunder,  and  others  wanton  burn, 
And  harmless  peasants  chaining,— 'tis  not  the  land  of 

those 
Who  strangers  greet  in  friendship,  or  warriors  meet  as 

foes, — 

To  help  in  toil  of  forming  a  stockade  broad  and  long, 
And  then  brigantines  seven,  of  plank  and  timbers  strong; 
And   nails  they  forge  of  fetters   torn   from   their  dying 

slaves, 

Or  helmet,  sword,  or  buckler  of  vanished  comrade  braves, 
Then  with  the  flood  of  waters  launch  boldly  for  the  main, 
This  remnant  of  the  warriors,  these  cavaliers  of  Spain. 

Far  comes  the  shout  of  triumph  as  breezes  fill  their  sails; 
Near  swells  the  moans  of  dying  and  famished  orphans' 

wails ; 
Faint  falls  the  song  of  gladness  from  those  we'll  see  no 

more ; 
Loud  rings  the  clarion  death-whoop  of  warriors  seeking 

gore. 

A  hand  is  on  my  bosom,  cold  fingers  clutch  my  hair,— 
O  God  !  it  is  a  vision,  and  vanishes  in  air. 


*  As  the  Spaniards  then  called  the  Mississippi  River 
I5 


iyo  DE   SO  TO. 

A  steamer's  screeching  whistle,  her  shouting  crew  and 

bell, 

Commingle  with  the  tempest,  unearthly  din, to  swell; 
Yet  lingering  from  my  vision  awhile  a  phantom  clings, 
And  from  my  ancient  relics  in  fading  cadence  sings: 
"Oh,  freed  we  from  our  prison,  our  fetters,  and  our  clay; 
Where  are  our  friends  and  comrades,  and  captors,  where 

are  they? 
Where  are  the  fields  and  camp-fires,  the  walls  and  pickets 

strong? 
O'ergrown   by  mighty  forests,  sure  we   have  slumbered 

long." 
Yes,  slumbered  long  and   tranquilly,  while  friends  and 

race  are  fled ; 

Another  race  has  conquered,  and  mingles  with  your  dead. 
The  tramp  of  mighty  armies,  the  roar  of  bloody  strife, 
Of  brother  against  brother,  aroused  you  not  to  life. 
As  countless  rills  uniting  a  flood  to  swell  the  sea, 
These  brothers  blend  a  nation,  united,  happy,  free; 
While  plaintive  moans  the  cypress,  and  dark  the  waters 

flow, 

As  in  the  days  of  Cortez,  four  hundred  years  ago, 
Thus  fades  my  midnight  vision,  thus  ends  my  mournful 

strain, 
Of  the  legend  of  De  Soto,  the  cavalier  of  Spain. 


NOTES. 


THE  CALUMET  OF  THE  COTEAU. 

'  "  Say,  hast  thou  seen  the  cal-u-mct  of  pink  or  purple  bright, 
A  pipe-bowl  in  the  council,  a  hatchet  in  the  fight?" 

Tht  first  white  rovers  of  the  seas  who  landed  upon  the  shores  of 
North  America  were  uniformly  met  by  armed,  stalwart,  red-  or  copper- 
colored  warriors,  led  by  some  paint-and-plume-bedecked  chieftain, 
who,  with  a  spread  robe  or  blanket  and  the  curling  azure  smoke  of 
the  pipe  of  peace,  welcomed  them  to  their  wild  shore  and  rude 
hospitality. 

'This  indeed  seems  to  have  ever  been  the  custom  in  their  intercourse 
with  the  whites  and  with  each  other.  Be  it  a  casual  meeting  upon 
the  trail,  a  visit  of  friendship  or  business,  a  council  for  the  adjustment 
of  differences  to  avoid  war,  or  for  the  ratification  of  the  terms  of 
peace,  little  is  ever  said,  and  positively  nothing  important  done,  until 
after  the  exchange  of  at  least  a  few  puffs  of  smoke  from  the  never- 
wanting,  forgotten,  or  neglected  pipe  of  peace. 

These  are  of  various  forms,  but  all  having  the  orifice  for  the  insei- 
tion  of  the  stem  at  one  end,  extend  to  a  capacious  bowl  or  receptacle 
upon  one  side,  usually  at  right  angles  therewith,  for  the  indigenous 
tobacco,  or,  in  its  absence,  Kin-no-ke-nick  osier-bark,  or  other  fragrant 
inflammable  substances.  For  use  upon  ordinary  occasions  they  were 
made  of  a  great  variety  of  rocky  materials,  and,  together  with  the 
stem,  were  ornamented  according  to  the  caprice  or  circumstances  of 
the  maker  or  subsequent  owner.  This  class  of  pipes  are  articles  of 
sale,  barter,  valued  tokens  of  esteem,  as  presents  to  friends  in  life, 
and,  less  frequently,  as  bequests. at  death;  as,  from  the  nearly  uni 
versal  belief  of  the  North  American  Indians  that  all  things  animate 
and  inanimate  alike  possess  souls,  these  pipes,  a  supply  of  tobacco 

171 


172  NOTES. 

and  food,  as  well  as  his  weapons,  utensils,  ornaments,  apparel,  and 
blankets,  occasionally  his  war  horse,  and  sometimes  his  widow,  or 
widows,  are  buried  with  the  warrior  gone,  so  that  in  the  happy 
hunting-grounds  beyond  the  mountains  he  may  there  renew  life,  its 
pursuits  and  its  pleasures,  as  he  left  it  here. 

But  in  the  grand  councils,  for  the  adjustment  of  disputes  of 
boundaries,  formation  of  alliances,  or  the  ratification  of  the  terms  of 
peace  among  nations,  the  indispensable  ceremonial  pipe  of  peace  is 
the  yellow-mottled,  pink,  or  purple  calumet  from  the  sacred  quarry 
of  the  legendary  fossilized  flesh  of  the  antediluvian  progenitors 
of  the  race  of  red  men,  usually  bearing  the  totem  of  the  owner, 
clan,  or  tribe,  or  all  of  them,  and  which  were  never  regular  arti 
cles  of  barter  or  sale,  and  seldom  of  transfer,  save  in  compacts  of 
alliance  or  confederation  of  tribes  or  nations,  when  they  were  ex 
changeable.  Hence  its  transfer  to  other  races  was  sacrilegious;  and 
of  the  countless  pipes  peacefully  obtained  of  the  Indians  by  the 
early  white  men,  it  is  believed  that  few,  if  any,  were  genuine  sacred 
calumets ;  and  the  location,  even  approximately,  of  the  sacred  quarry, 
or,  as  figuratively  called,  mountain,  was  for  a  long  time  unknown  to 
white  men. 

Tradition  relates  that  the  first  devout  Frenchmen  who  visited  the 
falls  of  the  Father  of  Waters  in  1680  were  greeted  by  the  appear 
ance  of  St.  Anthony,  the  patron  saint  of  the  expedition,  who,  from 
amid  the  spray  above  the  falls,  warned  them  that  a  great  council  of 
the  nations  of  red  men  had  recently  ordained  that  no  pale-face  should 
be  allowed  to  nearer  approach  the  sacred  calumet  quarry ;  and,  also, 
that  he  was  rewarded  for  his  fidelity  and  the  event  commemorated 
by  their  attaching  his  name  to  the  falls,  which  they  still  retain. 

These  well-known  falls  are  280  miles  by  direct  railroad  connection, 
and  fully  twice  that  distance  by  the  ancient  route  of  nations  up  the 
St.  Peter's — now  Minnesota— River  and  coteau  route,  from  the  sacred 
quarry,  which,  although  in  the  land  of  the  Dakotag,  is  some  miles 
east  of  the  border  of  that  Territory,  in  Pipestone  County,  Minnesota, 
as  now  organized. 

It  is  situated  near  the  southern  end  of  the  great  "  Coteau  des 
Prairies"  of  the  old  French  voyageurs,  and  upon  the  small  calumet 
affluent  of  the  Big  Sioux  River,  which  is  now  called  the  Pipestone 
Creek,  near  the  drainage  divide  of  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri 
Rivers.  From  the  summit  of  this  coteau  divide  the  long  parallel 


NOTES. 


swells  uniform  in  character,  but  charmingly  diversified  in  outline, 
stretch,  like  the  waves  of  a  fossilized  ocean,  away,  away,  until  tht 
verdure  of  earth  and  the  azure  of  heaven  blend  in  the  cloudless 
horizon  of  one  of  the  most  charming  rural  landscapes  of  earth, 
even  still  while  being  spanned  by  the  iron  rail  and  dotted  by  the' 
dwellings,  the  grain-fields,  verdant  groves,  and  thriving  villages  of 
the  all-progressive  race  of  destiny,  over  the  rude  tumuli,  mouldering 
bones,  and  crumbling  land-marks  of  the  wandering  race  fast  fading 
away. 

That  the  unique  surface  conformation  of  this  region  results  from 
enormous  groovings  and  deposits  during  the  glacial  period  and  count 
less  ages  of  subsequent  erosion  is  fully  proven  by  the  surface  and 
character  of  the  soil,  the  countless  huge  erratic  blocks,  or  lost  boulders 
strewn  broadcast  upon  it,  as  the  sacred  eggs  of  the  genii  in  the  Little 
Calumet  or  Pipestone  Valley,  the  countless  deep  parallel  groovings 
upon  all  the  exposed  rocks  of  the  cliffs  as  well  as  the  valley,  and 
the  evident  abrading  effects  upon  them  of  the  frosts  and  the  infrequent 
but  severe  storms  of  a  high  latitude  and  a  moderately  elevated,  open, 
and  windy  region. 

The  operation  of  some  or  all  of  these  agencies  has  produced  a 
valley  two  miles  in  length,  extending  somewhat  east  of  north  and 
west  of  south  from  the  midway  and  deepest  portion  of  the  falls  on  the 
Calumet  or  Pipestone  Creek,  where  over  thirty  feet  of  the  horizontally- 
banded  and  cross-sectioned,  vitreous,  beautiful  flesh-  or  pink-colored 
stone  rises  in  nearly  vertical  but  broken-edged  walls. 

The  creek  is  barely  a  permanent  stream  save  in  spring-time  or 
floods,  when  it  is  a  prairie  deluge,  breaking  over  the  ragged  cliffs  in 
several  additional  cascades;  but  the  four  pools  or  lakelets  along  the 
stream  within  a  mile  northwesterly  are  all  rocky  and  permanent,  well 
stocked  with  pickerel  and  other  fish,  and  often  literally  covered'  with 
ducks,  geese,  and  other  water-fowl. 

The  carpet  of  herbage  and  flowers  along  this  creek  and  chain  of 
lakelets  must  have  ever  been  a  chosen  haunt  of  buffalo,  elk,  deer,  and 
antelope;  and  a  view  from  the  sacrificial  altar  upon  the  cliff  borders 
of  this  sacred  vale  of  refuge,  and  the  pilgrims  from  countless  nations, 
engaged  in  bathing,  in  peaceful  amusements,  or  in  quarrying  the 
sacred  pipestone,  must  have  ever  been  one  of  the  most  unique"  and 
interesting  ever  witnessed  by  man  in  any  age  or  clime. 

The  sacred  quarry  is  about  one-third  of  a  mile  west  from  the  cliffs 
'5* 


174  NOTES. 

and  parallel  with  them,  and  whether  or  not  its  discovery  really  re 
sulted  from  the  pilgrims  trailing  the  white  or  medicine  bison  or 
buffalo  through  the  creek,  as  related  in  the  legend,  it  is  evident  it  was 
first  opened  along  the  creek  and  north  of  it,  the  more  recent  as  well 
as  extensive  excavations  extending  south  of  it  to  a  point  opposite  the 
legendary  abode  of  the  genii. 

The  real  vein  of  mottled  purple  pipestone  is  a  horizontally-bedded 
and  stratified  steatite  rock  aggregating  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  in 
thickness,  of  which  only  two  or  three  of  the  bottom  strata  are  thick 
enough  for  the  sacred  calumet, — and  this  during  much  of  the  year  is 
beneath  the  water,— the  material  upon  its  first  removal  being  soft  and 
easily  carved  and  polished  in  any  desired  form,  which  it  ever  retains, 
somewhat  hardening  and  deepening  in  color  with  age. 

As  this  pipestone  is  beneath  two  or  three  feet  of  soil  and  six  or 
eight  of  vitreous  rocks,  only  the  peculiar  fracture  of  the  latter  into 
angular  blocks  of  from  four  to  six  feet  in  length  and  half  as  wide  and 
thick  could  have  enabled  a  rude  people  destitute  of  good  tools  or 
mechanical  appliances  to  make  excavations  fully  a  mile  in  length  and 
from  fifty  to  two  hundred  feet  in  width, — remains  which  must  ever  be 
viewed  as  one  of  the  marvellous  exhibitions  of  the  persistence  of  man 
in  securing  an  ornament  or  sustaining  a  superstition. 

2  "  But  the  bison,  so  lofty,  so  fleet,  and  so  white, 
Oh  !  mar  not  his  beauty,  but  follow  his  flight !" 

The  white,  or  medicine,  curly  bison  of  the  parks,  or  the  shaggy 
buffalo  of  the  plains. 

They  are  extremely  rare,  and,  like  the  medicine  wolf,  wolverine, 
and  other  white  individual  animals  of  dark-colored  species,  are  per 
haps  albinos,  and  certainly  ever  objects  of  mysterious  awe,  and 
usually  of  ceremonious  sacrifice,  and  hence  in  this  case  symbolic. 

8  "  These  five  eggs  I  leave  for  your  witness  and  mine." 
These  famous  eggs  of  the  legendary  monster  eagle  are  really  that 

number  of  huge  drift  granite  boulders  from  some  distant  unknown 

source,  and  each  from  ten  to  thirty  feet  in  diameter. 

They  are  found  in  a  line  against  each  other,  fronting  the  Calumet 

Creek  from  the  south,  about  midway  in  the  little  valley,  extending 

from  the  cliffs  of  the  sacred  quarry  of  fossilized  warriors,  rising  thirty 


NOTES.  175 

or  forty  feet  above,  to  the  modern  quarry,  six  feet  beneath  its  grassy 
but  angular  rock-strewn  surface. 

1  "  Lo  !  neath  are  two  grottos  for  Wa-root-ka's  home." 
These  Wa-root-kas  are  the  two  legendary   female  genii  or  local 
goddesses  of  the  sacred  quarry,  who,  in  two  little  grottos  between 
these  eggs,  are  ever  alternately  slumbering  and  watching  the  sacred 
quarry. 

These  rocks,  and  more  notably  flat-surfaced  rocks  about  them,  are 
nearly  covered  by  the  carved  or  painted  totems  of  the  countless  pil 
grims  who  have,  during  untold  ages,  sacrificed  to  these  guardians  of 
the  quarry  for  the  privilege  of  removing  fragments  therefrom. 

1  "  Bold  Chey-enne  and  Da-ko-ta,  the  latter  called  Si-oux." 

Da-ko-ta  is  the  Indian  name  for  the  confederacy  of  tribes  by  thr 
whites  called  Si-oux. 

This  latter  name  is  of  somewhat  doubtful  origin,  by  some  believed 
to  be  derived  from  the  Algonquin  name  Nad-a-was-see-wak,  or  the 
people  who  are  snake-like,  from  the  proverbial  sly,  crafty  character 
of  these  people.  By  others  the  name  is  deemed  the  corruption  of  a 
pigeon  French  word  little  less  complimentary.  But  of  the  name  of 
this  people  in  the  sign  language  there  is  no  question,  which  is  given 
by  drawing  the  edge  of  the  open  right  hand  from  left  to  right  across 
the  throat,  literally  "cut-throat;"  nor  do  these  names  belie  their 
character  or  their  legendary  origin  as  the  progeny  of  the  ferocious 
War-Eagle  and  the  sneaking  but  ever-famished  and  voracious  Ca- 
youta,  or  Prairie- Wolf. 

This  name  is  properly  expressed  in  two  closely-connected,  quickly- 
spoken  syllables,  as  used  in  this  work,  as  if  spelled  Si-ou,  although 
the  whites  now  usually  pronounce  it  as  if  spelled  Soo,  in  one  syllable. 

1  "  In  jasper  cairn  they  buried  the  maid  and  warrior  gone, 

And  bright  their  totems  painted  upon  the  walls  of  stone." 

This  cairn  mode  of  burial  is  and  probably  ever  has  been  practised 

at  this  sacred  calumet  quarry,  although  extremely  unusual  with  the 

idians  of  the  great  plains  and  coteaus,  few  of  whom  are  elsewhere 

ever  buried  in  the  earth  or  cairns,  but  usually  encased,  with  their 

weapons  and  implements,  in  blankets  and  green  buffalo-hide,  are 

placed  by  their  friends  upon  inaccessible  ledges  of  rocks,  in  forked 


I76  NOTES. 

trees,  or,  in  the  absence  of  both  of  these,  upon  scaffolds  for  the  pap- 
poose,  squaw,  or  dog-soldier,  or  in  gorgeous  teepee  for  the  chief 
tain  gone.  But  the  belief  that  both  the  cliff  and  quarry  of  the  pipe- 
stone  are  ihe  sacred  relics  of  the  antediluvian  (in  part)  progenitors 
of  their  race  seems  to  have  ever  prompted  them  to  endure  every 
privation  and  danger  in  pilgrimages  from  distant  nations,  to  secure 
not  only  unpolluted  fragments  of  the  sacred  pipestone,  but,  in  case 
of  their  dying  at  the  Mecca  of  their  hopes  and  journeying,  to  also 
secure  a  burial-cairn  of  the  abundant  and  wide-spread  fragments  of 
the  cliff. 

The  countless  numbers  of  these  cairns  in  the  valley,  upon  the  cliff, 
and  for  miles  upon  the  surrounding  coteau,  literally  form  a  sacred 
cemetery  in  a  land  of  savages ;  and  as  these  purple-  or  flesh-colored 
rocks  are  seemingly  glazed  too  hard  for  carving  with  any  tool  known 
to  these  people,  many  of  them  and  portions  of  the  cliff  are  nearly 
covered  with  the  fading  painted  totems  of  the  pilgrims  who  have 
mouldered  to  dust  beneath  them. 

1  "  The  woolly-sheep  and  big-horn." 

The  two  distinct  and  extremely  dissimilar  varieties  of  the  wild 
sheep  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  region. 

The  famous  big-horn,  thus  named  from  the  enormous  symmetrical 
horns  of  the  adult  males,  is  the  taller,  more  active,  darker-haired, 
and  more  beautiful  animal,  and  is  also  far  the  most  numerous  and 
best  known. 

While  the  big-horn  has  much  the  appearance  of  a  black-tail  deei, 
with  the  head  and  enormous  horns  of  a  domestic  ram,  the  white  sheep 
with  his  curly  under  and  long  shaggy  outer  coating  of  hair,  with  his 
small,  sharp,  backward  turned  and  beautiful  black  horns,  much  re 
sembles  a  huge  goat,  only  he  is  web-footed  for  travelling  on  the  snow 
fields  of  the  most  elevated  regions,  such  as  those  of  the  main  Rocky 
Mountains  around  the  Deer  Lodge,  Big-Hole,  and  Bitter-Root  Val 
leys,  from  which  he  never  ventures  far  or  long  remains. 

8  "  Bestride  fleet  hornless  bison." 

This  appellation  for  a  horse,  eagle's  wings  for  the  sails  of  the 
schooner,  or  big  canoe,  long-knife  for  sword,  bosom-totem  for  the 
buckle-plate  of  the  cross-belt,  war-bonnet  for  the  helmet-cap,  the 
flashing  lightning,  startling  thunder,  and  deadly  barbless  arrows,  aie 


NOTES.  177 

in  accordance  with  the  well-known  Indian  characteristic  of  naming 
objects  to  them  new  or  mysterious. 

9  "  Then  from  the  '  Mighty  Medicine'  in  terror  fled  amazed." 
Literally,  the  great  mysterious  unknown;  for  medicine  in  Indian 
does  not  signify  medicinal  preparations  to  cure  disease  by  their 
inherent  properties,  but  rather  anything  mysterious,  awe-inspiring, 
or  fearful,  including  the  abominable  paints  and  poisonous  decoctions 
of  their  medicine-men,  who  are  not  skilful  physicians,  but  crafty, 
conjuring  magicians. 

10  "  Pure  Hen-ne-pin  and  Du-luth  visit  for  good  the  shore." 

These  daring  explorers,  like  Marquette  and  most  of  the  early 
French  rovers  of  the  great  Northwestern  lakes  and  plains,  were 
zealous  and  devout  missionaries  of  the  cross,  than  whom  few  men  in 
any  age  have  left  a  more  brilliant  record  of  combined  heroic  daring 
and  Christian  purity,  fortitude,  and  forbearance,  and  who  should  in 
no  sense  be  confounded  with  the  crafty,  rum-selling,  laws-of-God- 
and-man-defying  fur-traders  who  followed  them. 

11  "Till  the  prairie  Min-ne-tan-ka.M 

Or,  in  the  Dakota  language,  Min-ne,  water;  Tanka,  great,  or,  as 
necessarily  reversed  in  English,  is  literally  Great  water;  but,  when 
properly  understood  and  arranged,  signifies  the  Great  River  of  the 
Prairies, — i.e.,  the  Mississippi. 

!2  "  With  purple  pipe  the  chieftain  first  heavenward  points  above." 

With  a  thorough  knowledge  and  heartfelt  desire,  I  confess  my  utter 
inability  to  properly  portray  the  matchless  deliberation,  solemnity,  and 
awe  of  the  invocation  of  Heaven  to  witness  the  sincerity  and  punish 
the  treachery  of  those  who,  with  a  deliberate  puff  of  the  sacred  calu 
met  pipe  of  peace,  in  council  pledge 

"  Each  as  a  friend  to  know, 
While  sun  and  moon  shall  circle,  or  crystal  waters  flow." 

13  "  Naught  care  they  for  the  sufferings,  the  hunger,  thirst,  or  cold 
Of  agonizing  victims,  so  with  gore  they  gather  gold." 

Alas !  now,  as  it  ever  has  been,  too  lamentably  and  undeniably 
true,  beside  the  sanctuaries  of  the  Sabbath  in  a  Christian  land,  as 


I7g  NOTES. 

well  as  in  the  trader's  lair  among  the  filthy  wigwams  of  the  painted 
savage,  wherever  rum  is  sold. 

14  "  For  wife  to  grace  the  harem,  and  firm  unite  his  race." 
"  Wife,"  often  a  temporary  mistress  to  the  trader  in  his  harem, 
which  far  too  many  trading-posts  are  cursed  with,  and  ever  have 
been,  and  thus,  and  from  the  roving  habits  of  all  parties,  less  a  per 
manent  home  of  any  semblance  of  virtue,  than  a  noisy  haunt  of 
profit-seeking  alliance  and  alluring,  transient  vice. 

15  "  Tower  high  o'er  crystal  waters  huge  crags  of  crumbling  slate." 
The  Maiden's  Rock,  or  Leap,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Pepin, 

famous  in  Indian  legends  from  the  death  of  Min-ne-ha-ha  and  her 

chieftain  lover,  Min-ne-o-la,  as  herein  related. 

If  the  tourist  should  find  this  cliff  more  of  a  crumbling  sandstone 

than  a  slate,  he  may  safely  charge  the  error  to  poetical  license  for  the 

purpose  of  symphony  in  the  rhyme. 

16  "  Then  thrust  aside  degraded,  to  delve  in  kennel  vile  1" 
"  Kennel  vile !"    Trading-posts  are  notorious  haunts  of  dogs,  mainly 
mongrels  of  not  only  every  domestic  variety,  but  also  crosses  with  the 
fox,  cayouta,  and  sometimes  the  ferocious  buffalo-wolf  of  the  plains, 
together  with  their  attendant  venom  and  vermin. 

17  "  The  secret  passage  opens." 

The  early  trading-posts  were  usually  constructed  upon  the  dry, 
sandy,  or  gravelly  bluffs  to  lakes  or  rivers,  for  the  purpose  of  setting 
the  stockade  pickets,  and  for  the  construction  of  secret  passage-ways 
to  the  hidden  powder-magazine  and  caches  for  valuable  goods,  as 
well  as  for  the  purpose  of  retreat,  or  securing  reinforcements,  or 
secrecy  of  their  dusky  amours;  and  in  this  case  (presumably  through 
the  connivance  of  some  friend)  known  to  the  females,  but  not  to  the 
War-Eagle. 

18  "  Still  oft  in  wave-kissed  grottos  sing  they  at  '  Maiden's  Leap.'  " 
With  these  wave-kissed  grottos  is  always  connected  some  tradition 
of  love  or  slaughter,  and  frequently  of  both;  and  the  moaning  echoes 
of  the  receding  ripples  in  the  hidden  chambers  are  ever  attributed  to 


NOTES.  179 

the  wailing  dirge  of  the  fallen  heroes  or  heroines  of  the  legend,  and 
hence  are  ever  places  of  unrivalled  interest  in  both  fact  and  fiction. 

19  "And  thou,  Mis-sis-sip-pi,  bear'st  temples  in  gladness, 
With  loud  strains  of  music  their  progress  to  trace." 

It  seems  scarcely  necessary  to  state  that  these  stanzas  refer  to  the 
magnificent  three-decked  steam-packets  and  their  cliff-echoing  calli 
opes  upon  the  Mississippi  and  other  mighty  western  rivers. 

20  "  Bury  purple  cal'met  peaceful ; 

Quench  its  azure  smoke; 
Grasp  the  hatchet  crimson  reeking, 
Death  at  every  stroke." 

As  burying  the  hatchet  is  the  ceremonial  manner  as  well  as  the 
figurative  mode  of  expressing  the  ratification  of  a  treaty  of  peace, 
even  thus  was  burying  the  calumet  pipe,  with  its  azure  smoke  and 
peaceful  memories,  the  appropriate  expression  of  the  wine-  and  step 
mother-frenzied  War-Eagle  in  opening  a  war  of  merciless  extermina 
tion  upon  his  own  offspring  by  an  ever-peaceful  and  affectionate 
former  consort. 

21  "  Thus  soon  the  Wa  kan-she-cha  had  crushed  or  slain  the  race." 
Wa-kan,  mysterious;  she-cha,  bad;  or  bad  mysterious  one,  or  devil 
she-devil,  which  the  entire  history  of  this  cayouta  wife  of  War- Eagle 
proves  her  to  have  truly  been. 

22  "And  'mid  the  wild  roses  with  carnage  once  red." 

Few  scenes  upon  the  border  are  more  pleasing  than  the  profusion, 
variety,  and  fragrance  of  the  wild  roses;  and  from  the  large  bright- 
red,  orange,  or  yellow-tinted  seed-balls,  which,  under  the  name  of 
rosebuds,  hang  upon  the  bushes  all  winter  as  food  for  birds,  and  in 
dire  necessity  for  men,  the  numerous  streams  and  valleys  derive  their 
names. 

A  humble  but  hardy  variety  of  the  rose  thrives  and  blooms  amid 
the  cactus  of  such  sterile  coteau  plains  as  those  of  the  Custer  slaughter- 
field,  and  are  there  actually  found. 

23  "  On  the  crest  of  the  coteau." 

Where  the  gallant  Custer  and  the  last  of  his  band  went  down  as  a 
phalanx,  and  where,  with  due  deference  to  the  views  of  others,  in  my 


i8o  NOTES. 

humble  judgment,  they  should  have  ever  remained.  It  is  the  abrupt 
terminus  of  the  long  cotea'u-ridge  upon  which  they,  retreating  fight 
ing,  fell,  sloping  somewhat  in  all  directions,  steeply  but  beautifully 
upon  three  of  them,  thus  commanding  a  clear  view  of  the  entire 
Indian  village  and  valley  of  the  Little  Big-Horn  (or  Custer  River) 
for  many  miles,  with  all  the  slaughter-fields  of  that  day,  save  those 
of  Reno's,  the  first  of  which  is  somewhat  hidden  by  timber,  and  the 
last  completely  by  an  intervening  bluff. 

Some  of  these  words  were  inspired  and  written  upon  meeting  the 
returning  train  and  the  remainder  of  them  upon  that  consecrated 
crest,  the  day  following  the  removal  of  all  found  of  the  officers 
remains. 

I  still  cherish  the  opinion,  then  formed,  that  few  places  earthly  are 
as  lovely,  and  none  so  fitting  for  a  warrior's  cairn  or  hero's  monu 
ment,  as  where  some  of  them  fell;  and  all  should  have  been  gathered, 
and,  beneath  a  fitting  monument,  allowed  undisturbed  repose  until 
Gabriel's  reveille  should  rouse  them  to  their  last  rally. 

24  "  Nor  bold  as  men  of  courage  'gainst  remnant  on  the  hill, 

But  prowling  'long  the  border,  the  innocent  to  kill." 

The  failure  of  the  congregated  hostile  savages  of  the  Sioux  and 
several  other  Indian  nations  to  follow  up  the  rebuff  of  Crook,  the 
slaughter  of  Custer,  and  defeat  of  Reno  by  the  speedy  extermination 
of  the  remnant  of  the  regiment  upon  the  hill,  and  then  cutting  up 
the  troops  of  Terry  and  Gibbon  in  detail,  as  they,  by  the  concerted 
action  of  organized  troop,  could  have  done,  but  instead,  as  they  really 
did,  by  revelling  in  brutal  mutilation  of  the  dead  upon  the  field,  until 
surprised  and  stampeded  from  it  by  the  handful  of  troops  under  Terry, 
and  then  breaking  up  into  recruiting-parties  or  scalping.-bands  along 
the  distant  border,  they  clearly  exemplified  the  true  Indian  character 
and  management  in  nearly  all  their  wars  with  the  whites. 

25  "  From  the  fairy  Min-ne-ha-ha  and  lover's  wailing  strand." 
Lover's  wailing  strand  of  Lake  Pepin,  as  noted  in  the  stanzas  of 

this  legend. 

"  Swells  one  loud  wail  of  agony  from  sea  of  flame  and  gore, 
Like  scream  of  dying  eagle,  then  silence  evermore  !" 

For  the  credit  of  humanity  this  fate  has  not  befallen  the  main  por 
tion  of  the  Sioux  nation,  although  it  seemed  impending,  if  not,  in- 


NOTES.  Igl 

deed,  just  and  inevitable,  at  the  time  when  the  words  were  written 
upon  the  steamer  "  Ashland,"  while  ascending  the  Yellowstone  River 
with  General  Miles,  soon  after  his  Ro.se-Bud  fight  of  1877. 

>  "  On  the  banners  of  this  people  let  his  pinions  soar  above, 
With  my  maiden's  cap  of  Justice,  of  Liberty,  and  Love  \" 

Pure,  loving,  and  faithful  was  the  character,  heroic  the  life  and 
tragic  the  death  of  the  Laughing  Water,  Min-ne-ha-ha,  and  immortal 
her  dirge,  as  with  the  blended  voice  of  her,  in  life  and  in  death,  ever- 
faithful  lover,  Min-ne-o-la,  it  re-echoes  along  the  cliffs,  or  in  mournful 
fading  cadence  vanishes  'mid  the  whispering  ripples  in  the  wave- 
kissed  grottos  of  Lake  Pepin's  tranquil  shore. 

Still  it  is  not  she,  but  her  heroic  mother,  the  remnant  of  the  pri 
meval,  and  parent  of  the  best  of  the  modern  red  men,  who  was  the 
heroine  of  this  legend. 

Whether  in  the  eagle's  nes,  upon  the  cliff  as  the  confiding  refuse 
of  a  drowning  race,  a  willing  listener  to  the  complaints  and  amelior 
ator  of  the  wants  and  woes  of  her  people  as  a  queen,  or  as  a  faithful 
forgiving  wife  and  loving  mother,  indeed,  everywhere  in  her  entire' 
legendary  history  are  harmoniously  blended  all  the  virtues  and  none 

the  vices  or  failings  of  the  real  or  legendary  heroines  of  other 
races  and  climes. 

Although  her  heroic  efforts  to  save  her  daughter  Min-ne-ha-ha  are 
requited  by  the  speedy  death  of  herself  and  subsequent  relentless 
persecution  by  her  rum-frenzied  and  Cayouta-second-wife-instigated 
War-Eagle,  still  her  pure,  confiding  spirit  ever  hovers  in  love  over 

:  dwindling  remnant  of  her  race,  and  in  the  hour  of  just  retribution 
upon  that  of  her  fiendish  successor  in  the  love  and  favor  of  her 
iebased  husband,  still  she  manifests  towards  his  memory,  in  all  their 
punty,  those  unselfish,  forgiving  attributes  of  the  female  character 
which  in  every  age  and  clime  have  been  its  greatest  and  most 
mysterious  charm. 

All  her  cruel  and  countless  wrongs  are  overlooked  or  forgotten,  and 
from  the  ethereal  vault  of  heaven  she  only  recalls  the  memory  of 
War  Eagle  as  the  chivalric  rescuer  and  loving  husband  of  her  youth, 
and  father  of  her  offspring;  and  in  his  hour  of  humiliation  and  de 
spair,  and  of  her  triumph,  as  the  herald  of  heaven  to  affix  upon  the 
banner  of  the  victorious  race  of  progress  the  deluge-spared  emblems 
^r  primeval  race,  her  "maiden's  cap  of  Justice,  of  Liberty  and 


1 82  NOTES. 

Love,"  she,  with  smiling  angels'  gliding  grace,  plants  beneath  it  the 
long-retained  and  cherished  plumes  and  pinion  quills  plucked  from 
those  of  her  War-Eagle  chieftain  in  the  days  of  his  purity  and  pride. 
And  thus,  as  related  in  this  legend,  was  it  ordained  that  the  em 
blems  upon  the  azure  field  of  the  battle-flag  of  the  nation  of  the 
nations  of  earth,  the  chosen  land  of  refuge  for  the  down-trodden  and 
oppressed  images  of  God  from  every  clime  and  race,  should  not  be 
debasing  imitations  of  the  tyranny  and  crime-stained  banners  of 
other  lands,  but  rather  the  rescued  indigenous  emblems  of  the  pri 
meval,  the  piercing  lance  and  arrow  of  the  warrior  red  men,  and  the 
heavenward-soaring  pinions  of  the  fearless  battle-eagle  of  our  own  J 


2?THE    GOBLIN-LAND. 

This  wild,  chaotic  region  of  eroded  lava,  within  or  adjoining  the 
northeastern  portion  of  the  National  Park,  was  named  the  Hoodoo,  or 
Goblin- Land,  in  1870  by  the  first  party  of  white  men  who  are  known 
to  have  ever  visited  it. 

Some  members  of  the  party  were  there  killed  by  the  Indians;  and, 
accompanied  by  one  of  the  survivors,  I  was  driven  back  by  them  in 
1878,  but  succeeded  in  the  exploration  of  much  of  it  in  1880,  a  brief 
narrative  of  which,  together  with  illustrations  of  some  of  the  goblin 
forms,  may  be  found  on  pages  6-9  of  my  report  of  that  year. 

Reference  to  these  regions  may  also  be  found  on  page  47,  and  in 
the  map  accompanying  my  report  of  1881. 

In  this  poetical  legend  I  have  sought  to  blend  the  traditions  and 
heathen  mythology  of  the  sheep-eater  aborigines  of  these  regions 
with  the  teachings  of  Inspiration  and  the  records  of  geology  regard 
ing  the  horizontal  columns  of  the  huge  vertical  dykes,  fantastic 
pillars,  facades,  and  domes,  the  crumbling  archways,  the  tortuous 
labyrinths  and  monster  goblin-forms  of  this  marvellous  extension  of 
the  famous  Wonder-Land. 

28  "The  black  eagle  soars  round  the  pinnacle  high 

Till  a  wild  Iamb  perceiving,  as  a  bolt  from  the  sky, 
In  his  talons  quick  bears  him  for  a  feast  in  the  glade, 
Near  the  lion  low  crouching,  whose  dinner  is  made 
Of  victor  and  victim,  in  tanglewood  shade." 

This  is  a  correct  statement  of  what  I  once  saw  in  the  Goblin  Laby- 


NOTES.  I83 

rinths,  where  the  great  black  eagles  in  vast  numbers  appear  to  sub 
sist  mainly  upon  the  carcasses  of  the  wild  lambs  which  they  carry, 
or  of  .the  sheep  which  in  rapid  noisy  circling  they  first  bewilder,  and 
then  with  wing  or  talon,  or  both,  assist  in  hurling  from  the  tottering 
crests  or  crags  to  the  jagged  rocks  hundreds  of  feet  below. 

The  feasts  of  these  crafty  eagles  upon  such  carcasses  are  some 
times  terminated  by  those  of  the  couchant  cougar,  or  mountain-lion, 
or  of  the  sneaking  wolverine  upon  their  own. 

29  "  Then  man,  hairy  giant,  strode  forth  in  his  might." 
This  stanza  is   believed  to  express  in   a   concise   and  connected 
manner  the  attributes  of  the  biped  man,  the  possessor  of  an  immor 
tal  soul,  as  distinct  from  the  quadruped  or  other  animals  destitute 
thereof,  which  are, — 

First.  "  Erect  like  his  Maker,"  which,  unlike  any  other  known 
animal,  is  his  natural  and  habitual  position  in  locomotion. 
Second.   "  With  knowledge  of  right." 

Reflection,  reasoning,  the  faculty  of  tracing  effect  to  cause  and 
cause  to  effect,  and  ability,  possessed  by  no  other  animal,  of  imparting 
connectedly  to  others  or  of  transmitting  to  posterity  the  results  of  his 
experience  in  life. 

"Third.  "Inventor  of  weapons." 

All  other  animals  rely  upon  brute  force,  speed,  or  cunning, 
Man  alone  invents,  manufactures,  or  habitually  uses  weapons  in 
his  combats,  or  tools  or  implements  in  his  other  avocations;  and  these 
he  is  ever  improving,  while  the  products  of  instinct  are  ever  the  same. 
The  comb  of  the  first  wasp  or  honey-bee,  the  nest  of  the  original 
oriole  bird,  and  the  brush-dam  and  wickeup  of  the  whisker-faced, 
paddle-tailed  progenitors  of  the  beaver-dam  builders  of  earth  were  as 
marvellous  evidences  of  skill  and  of  adaptability  for  the  desired  pur 
poses  as  are  those  of  to-day  or  as  they  ever  will  be. 
Fourth.   "First  builder  of  fire." 

Other  animals  may,  as  they  will,  bask  in  the  rays  of  the  sun,  or 
beside  a  hot  spring,  and  sometimes  warm  themselves  by  a  fire  already 
kindled,  but  only  man  ever  produces,  preserves,  or  materially  utilizes 
one. 

"  Fifth.  "  Lone  trader  of  trophies." 

Other  animals  may  unite  to  slaughter,  but  seldom  peaceably  divide, 
and  never  exchange,  the  fragments  obtained,  or,  as  has  been  well 


!84  NOTES. 

said,  "No  dog  trades  his  bone;"  nor  does  any  other  animal  than  man 
barter  what  he  has  for  what  he  desires,  or  ever  use  a  medium  of 
exchange  therefor. 

Sixth.  "  With  soul  to  soar  higher." 

Despite  the  able  efforts  of  some  men  of  pre-eminent  ability  of  the 
present  and  the  past  to  refute  the  doctrine  of  an  immortal  soul  to 
temporarily  people  a  human  tenement  of  clay,  and  permanently  in 
habit  some  unknown  realm  of  weal  or  woe,  still  the  theory  in  some 
form  is  and  ever  has  been  wellnigh  co-extensive  with  the  human 
race.  This  is  notable  with  the  leading  tribes  of  the  North  American 
Indians,  whose  paradise  is  some  enchanting  island  or  lovely  park,  and 
their  perdition  a  chilling  alkali  desert,  or  some  fire-hole  basin  of 
seething  poisonous  gases  beyond  the  scorchy  deserts  or  snowy  moun 
tains  of  the  earth  on  which  we  dwell. 


80  "  Men,  mermaids,  and  monsters,  each  sphinx-like  in  place, 
And  mountains  hurled  o'er  them,  from  Heaven  hides  trace." 

As,  to  this  date,  less  than  a  score  of  white  men,  none  of  whom 
were  professional  scientists,  have  visited  the  Goblin  Labyrinths,  their 
relative  position  and  rank  among  the  marvels  of  this  wonderful  region 
is  yet  to  be  accorded. 

But  to  the  mountaineers  who  have  visited  them  it  requires  little 
superstitious  conjuring  to  imagine  that  the  huge  goblin  forms  which 
our  daring  mountain-horses  instinctively  shun  are  the  men,  monsters, 
and  reptiles  of  a  degenerate  and  licentious  world,  overwhelmed, 
hidden,  and  fossilized  by  enormous  overflows  of  lava,  mud,  and 
slime,  and  unearthed  by  the  grooving,  furrowing,  and  tunnelling  of 
countless  ages  of  sub-alpine  erosion. 

31  "  And  men  of  the  mountains,  of  Sheep-Eater  band, 
Of  game  and  of  plunder  make  sacrifice  grand 
To  monster  stone-gods  in  the  weird  '  Goblin-Land.'  " 

The  maps  accompanying  my  reports  of  1880  and  of  1 88 1  show  the 
position  of  the  most  eligible  site  and  evidently  ever-favorite  camping- 
place  for  the  aborigines  of  these  regions,  and  where  there  are  now 
the  remains  of  forty-two  lodges,  some  of  which  are  still  standing. 

Upon  my  visit  of  1880  this  camp  was  strewn  with  the  torn  and 
faded  remnants  of  male  and  female  apparel,  household  goods,  and 
utensils,  some  of  which  were  brought  away  as  mournful  mementos 


NOTES.  I8s 

of  bloody  raids  upon  the  distant  border,  from  which,  and  from  a 
knowledge  of  the  superstitious  customs  and  habits  of  these  people, 
rather  than  from  direct  evidence  in  this  case,  I  venture  the  language 
of  burnt-offering  in  the  poem  to  these  weird  monsters  of  stone,  which 
to  them  must  have  ever  been  objects  of  mysterious  awe,  and  hence 
of  sacrifice. 


MYSTIC    LAKE    OF    WONDER-LAND. 

82  "And  chilling  blasts  resistless  come 

Adown  thy  fingers,  palm,  and  thumb." 

The  early  rovers  and  their  maps  of  these  regions  represented  the 
unique  contour  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake  as  more  nearly  resembling 
an  open  human  hand  than  subsequent  explorations  seem  to  justify. 

Still,  its  resemblance  to  the  extended  palm  of  the  right  hand,  with 
the  Upper  Yellowstone  entering  the  extremity  of  the  little  finger  from 
the  south,  the  main  river  discharging  from  the  wrist  at  the  north,  the 
forefinger  now  severed  from  Delusion  Lake,  the  second  finger  much 
shortened,  with  the  western  thumb  relatively  enlarged,  and  the  main 
lake  or  palm  nearly  as  wide  as  it  is  long,  which  is  more  striking  from 
some  adjacent  snowy  peaks  than  upon  a  map,  is  so  evident  that  these 
names  of  the  various  portions  of  the  lake  will  doubtless  long  adhere 
to  them. 

33  "No  tent  can  stand,  no  blanket  save 

From  biting  blasts  that  round  us  rave." 

Literally  true,  and  mainly  written  when  beached  and  frozen-m 
near  the  mouth  of  Explorer's  Creek,  as  briefly  noted  on  page  1 1  of 
my  official  report  of  1880. 

34  "  Yet  practice  crimes  that  dark  disgrace 
Our  Christian  creed  and  bearded  race." 

Alas !  too  often  and  too  undeniably  true. 

With  relatively  few  worthy  exceptions,  the  policy  of  white  men 
has  ever  been  to  wantonly  crush,  or  to  employ  alike  the  worthy  and 
the  unworthy  red  men  as  allies  to  assail  and  divide  them,  to  practise 
and  condone  crimes,  pension  outlaws,  and  grant  annuities  to  the 
bloodiest  bands  of  savages,  in  order  to  secure  treaties  ceding  lands. 


1 86  NOTES. 

Meanwhile  the  steadfast  adherence  to  peaceful  possession  of  valu 
able  agricultural,  timbered,  or  mineral  lands  by  their  unquestioned 
Indian  owners  is  deemed  the  sole  unpardonable  crime  of  the  race, 
only  condoned  by  the  surrender  of  the  land  or  their  lives,  and  often 
of  both,  after  unchronicled  acts  of  heroism,  rivalling  those  of  the 
lauded  patriots  of  our  own  or  of  other  lands. 

35  "  Vases  and  urns  from  nature's  hand." 

The  prolongation  of  Mary's  Bay,  near  the  Indian  Pond,  between 
the  mouth  of  Pelican  Creek  and  Steamboat  Point,  upon  the  Yellow 
stone  Lake,  was  by  myself  named  Concretion  Cove,  from  the  count 
less  numbers  and  various  forms  of  concretions  which  there  fairly 
shingle  the  wave-lashed  beach. 

On  pages  15-17  of  my  report  of  1880  may  be  found  a  description 
of  this  location  and  these  concretions,  together  with  a  theory  as  to 
their  formation  ;  and  on  pages  70  and  71  of  that  of  1881  illustrations 
of  some  of  these  unique  forms. 

3*  "  And  finny  forms  beneath  the  wave 
For  angler's  bait  hot  current  brave, 
To  find,  alas  !  like  human  fool, 
A  barb  concealed  and  seething  pool." 

Of  the  countless  marvels  of  the  National  Park,  few  have  been  more 
ridiculed,  and  the  reality  of  none  is  now  better  established,  than  that 
the  large  and  beautiful  but  worm-infested  trout  of  the  Yellowstone 
Lake  at  several  localities,  notably  where  our  trail  leaves  the  end  of 
he  thumb  for  the  Shoshone  Lake,  may  be  caught  in  countless  num 
bers  in  the  lake  and  cooked  in  hissing  pools  without  the  angler 
changing  his  position  or  removing  them  from  the  hook. 

87  "  And  thence  from  nauseous  hissing  rill 
Sweet  flow'ry  vale  with  poisons  fill." 

This  description  of  the  changing  character  of  many  of  the  rivulets 
in  the  Wonder-Land  may  be  verified  by  any  tourist  who  will  follow 
them  from  their  snow  or  crystal  spring  fountains  through  nauseous 
ponds  or  basins  of  hissing,  sulphurous  pools,  and  the  flowery  grove- 
dotted  vale  below  them,  all  perhaps  within  the  distance  of  a  mile  or 
two. 

A  typical  case  is  the  crystal  rill  from  the  snows  of  Mount  Chitten- 


NOTES.  I8y 

den,  upon  which  I  have  often  camped  above  Turbid  Lake,  upon  the 
shores  of  which,  upon  its  southeastern  tributary,  or  along  its  outlet, 
no  human  being  would  wish  to  camp,  or  could  long  endure  the' 
sulphur  fumes  and  poisonous  gases  of  an  earthly  purgatory. 

88  "  And  islands  thine,  rock-ribbed  and  high, 
With  snowy  crests  amid  the  sky  : 
Inverted,  mirrored  'neath  the  waves, 
Seem  isles  to  greet  'mid  islands'  graves." 

While  Stevenson's,  Frank's,  and  some  of  the  smaller  islands  of  the 
Yellowstone  Lake  are  sandy,  and  but  slightly  elevated  above  its  sur 
face,  several  of  the  headlands  and  long  promontories,  as  that  be- 
tween  the  third  and  little  finger,  are  bold,  craggy,  and  basaltic  peaks, 
having  only  relatively  low,  narrow  connections  with  the  mainland. 
These,  in  the  usually  deep  tranquil  blue  waters  at  their  base,  are  often 
reflected  so  accurately  as  to  reproduce  them  inverted  beneath  the 
waves,  as  here  described. 

39  "  For  food  their  flesh,  for  hunting-shirt, 
Their  vacant  coat  with  belt  begirt?" 

From  necessity,  convenience,  or  utility,  the  Indians,  half-breeds  and 
often  the  white  rovers  of  the  border,  use  robes,  overcoats,  boots 'and 
caps  of  the  hides  of  the  wolf,  wolverine,  bear,  or  buffalo,  dressed 
with  the  fur  on,  and  hunting-shirts,  leggins,  and  moccasins  of  elk-, 
sheep-,  or  deer-skins  dressed  without  it. 

In  fact,  the  only  cloth  fabric  which  I  have  ever  found  a  reliable 
protection  alike  from  the  merciless  storms,  the  thorn,  and  weather 
worn  points  of  the  shrubs  and  branches  of  those  mountain  regions, 
was  the  famous  Hudson  Bay  mountain- coat. 

This,  with  a  half-cape,  was  made  of  cloth  having  a  warp  nearly 
as  coarse  and  strong  as  fish-lines,  and  woof  of  twisted  beaver  or 
other  fur  with  a  very  heavy  nap,  and,  although  common  in  those  re 
gions  forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  has  for  a  long  time  been  unobtainable. 

Like  these  garments,  the  flint-lock  gun  and  bull-boat  of  the  past, 
the  days  of  the  hunting-shirt,  the  moccasin,  and  even  the  buffalo  and 
his  robe,  are  rapidly  passing  away  ;  and  hence  these  quoted  and  suc 
ceeding  stanzas  are,  it  is  hoped,  pardonable  from  one  who  has  par 
ticipated  in  two  eras  of  border-life,  and  has  ever  earnestly  sought  to 
assist  m  hastening  a  better  one  for  those  who  are  soon  to  follow. 


1 88  NOTES. 

GALLANT  CHARLEY  REYNOLDS. 

*>  "  Once  the  chosen  scout  of  Stanley, 

Often  Ludlow's  mountain  guide," 

Then  with  me  erst  true  and  manly, — 

Thou  who  with  our  Custer  died  1" 

Few  of  the  daring  scouts  of  the  border  ever  acquired  a  greater 
number  of  friends,  a  more  brilliant  record,  or  met  a  more  tragic  or 
lamented  fate  than  the  gallant  Charley  Reynolds. 

Upon  our  return  from  the  National  Park  late  in  1875,  ^e  remained 
at  Fort  Lincoln,  where  he  was  employed  as  chief  of  scouts,  and  as 
such  led  them  in  the  Custer  campaign  until,  with  Bloody  Knife  and 
others,  he  was  cut  off  from  Reno's  left  flank  in  his  hasty  retreat  from 
the  ambuscade  in  the  fated  valley  of  the  Little  Big-horn  on  the  day 
of  the  Custer  massacre,  and  there  fell  bravely  righting  until  nearly 
covered  by  fallen  steeds  and  foes. 

From  the  half-breed  French  scout,  T.  T.  Gerhard,  who  witnessed 
and,  by  concealment  in  the  willows,  alone  escaped  the  massacre  of 
those  thus  cut  off,  I  learned  the  location,  and  after  the  removal  of  the 
bones  of  Custer  and  other  officers  in  1877,  found  and  removed  those 
of  Reynolds,  together  with  all  of  his  well-known  beautiful  golden 
hair,  which  savage  ghoul  and  famished  wolf  had  spared.  Some  of 
this  I  still  retain,  but  the  most  of  it  has  been  scattered  far  and  wide, 
notably  in  Kentucky,  in  the  earnest  but  fruitless  effort  to  find  his 
birthplace  or  his  kindred  and  heirs  ;  nor  have  I  ever  learned  much  of 
his  history  in  addition  to  that  published  with  this  poem  in  my  journal 
of  "  Rambles  in  the  Far  West"  soon  after  his  death,  from  which  I 
quote  as  follows : 

"  After  the  removal  of  the  officers'  remains,  the  scout  Baronet 
and  myself  remained  upon  or  near  the  field  until  driven  from  it  by 
Indian  scouts,  as  may  be  found  in  a  note  to  '  Reynolds's  Dirge,'  a 
portion  of  which  was  then  written. 

"  As  stated,  we  were  much  together  in  the  Bad  Lands,  and  nearly 
constantly  upon  the  steamboat,  and  our  excursions  from  it  while  de 
scending  the  Missouri  to  Fort  Lincoln,  where  we  parted. 

"  He  was  engaged  as  chief  of  scouts  for  this  campaign,  hoping  for 
its  successful  close  in  time  for  him  and  other  mountain  friends  to 
accompany  me  to  the  Centennial,  and,  returning,  spend  the  coming 
winter  at  my  suburban  home.  He  was  perhaps  thirty  years  of  age, 


NOTES.  I8p 

light  complexion  and  hair,  of  medium  height,  but  compact  build, 
moral,  temperate,  mild,  and  quiet,  until  emergency  called  forth  the 
matchless  nerve  and  daring  that  made  him  the  leading  shot  and  scout 
of  the  Missouri  or  the  Yellowstone.  He  was  frank  but  not  con 
fiding.  I  never  heard  his  nativity,  and  though  his  expressed  desire 
to  see  an  eastern  city,  and  much  of  his  appearance  indicated  a  born 
mountaineer,  still  his  morals,  his  quiet,  refined  manners,  and  a  per 
vading  melancholy  when  alone  or  at  leisure,  alike  suggested  a  better 
rearing  and  a  crushing  misfortune  or  thrilling  tragedy  somewhere 
along  his  brief  but  checkered  pathway.  Premeditated  crime  I  cannot 
believe  of  «  Lonesome  Charley,'  as  he  was  often  called ;  but  scions 
of  many  wealthy  families,  especially  from  the  Southern  border  States, 
during  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Rebellion,  sought  amid  the  mines 
and  the  mountains  of  the  West  a  refuge  from  harrowing  memories  of 
ravaged  homes  and  slaughtered  friends;  and  several  trifling  incidents 
lead  me  to  suspect  that  he  was  one  of  them. 

"  'Mid  shadows  of  the  setting  sun,  echoes  from  the  evening  gun  at 
Fort  Buford  roused  us  from  hours  of  pensive  wanderings  'mid  the 
ruins  of  old  Fort  Union  and  the  cemetery  near  Fort  Buford,  when, 
with  a  last  lingering  look  at  the  turfy  tomb  of  slaughtered  friends, 
and  with  a  heart  too  full  for  utterance,  I  was  leaving  the  enclosure  in 
silence,  when  Charley,  in  quiet  but  frank,  earnest  manner,  said, 
*  Comrade,  I  am  dreaming  where  a  year  hence  will  find  us.'  Prophetic 
dread,  my  noble  fated  comrade !  That  was  at  eve  of  September  25, 
1875.  Upon  the  eve  of  June  25  following,  his  scalped  and  mutilated 
body  lay  amid  and  nearly  covered  by  foes,  slaughtered  by  his  aveng 
ing  hand  at  the  crimson  ford  of  the  Little  Horn.  July  25  my  last 
letter  to  him  was  returned,  soiled  and  worn,  but  unopened.  Sep 
tember  25,  by  a  protecting  Providence  kept  at  my  peaceful  home, 
sorrowfully  I  spent  the  closing  eve  of  the  fated  year  in  penning  the 
following  poetry  in  feeling,  if  not  in  fact,  sacred  to  the  memory  of 
that  comrade  of  a  year  ago,  far,  far  away." 

It  seems  proper  to  here  state  that  the  foregoing  poem  and  note  were 
written  before  personally  visiting  the  battle-field  and  finding  that 
Reynolds  was  not  killed  in  or  beside  the  "  Crimson  Ford,"  as  from 
the  first  publication  was  then  supposed. 


190 


NOTES. 


"PILGRIMS    OF    THE    YELLOWSTONE. 

This  legend  is  less  a  narrative  of  the  sufferings  and  fate  of  any  one 
party  than  a  portrayal  of  the  dangers,  privations,  and  sufferings  of  all, 
and  the  slaughter  of,  alas !  too  many  of  the  gold-seeking  pilgrims 
who,  under  Bridger,  Bozeman,  and  other  daring  pathfinders,  literally 
left  a  trail  of  gore  from  the  Platte  to  the  Yellowstone  in  fighting  their 
way  to  found  an  empire  in  the  Gallatin  and  other  lovely  valleys  of 
Montana  prior  to  and  during  the  ferocious  Red  Cloud  Sioux  war. 


THE    CAPTIVE    MAIDEN. 

*2  "  Rise,  my  muse,  sing  of  a  maiden 
Captive  on  the  coteau  wild." 

This  poem  was  written  by  request  of  the  lamented  Major  Meacham, 
and  was  mainly  published  in  his  Council  Fire. 

It  is  deemed  an  essentially  correct  narrative  of  the  valor  of  the 
chieftain  lover,  and  heroic  death  of  the  captive  maiden  after  the 
Rose-Bud  fight  of  General  Miles  with  the  Cheyennes  in  1877. 


THE    WONDER-LAND. 

**  "  Oh,  for  wisdom  in  the  councils 

Of  our  nation  great, 
To  protect  these  matchless  wonders 
From  a  ruthless  fate  1" 

This  poem  was  written  in  Washington,  and  used  in  manuscript  in 
the  spring  of  1878  to  aid  in  securing  the  first  appropriation  of  funds 
ever  made  by  Congress  to  protect,  preserve,  and  improve  the  people's 
heritage  of  wonders  in  the  Yellowstone  National  Park,  and  hence 
the  language  of  the  last  verse,  as  above  quoted. 


NOTES.  191 


BOLD    HERO    OF    THE    BORDEB 

*4  "  In  lair  of  hidden  gulches,  in  Bear's-Paw  Mountain  wilds." 

Bear's-Paw  Mountain  is  a  timbered  outlier  of  the  Little  Rocky 
Mountains,  between  the  Missouri  River  at  the  mouth  of  the  Judith 
and  the  British  possessions,  and  from  its  abundance  of  fuel,  water, 
yawning  gulches,  and  wash-outs  coulees,  an  admirable  position  for 
defensive  warfare. 

As  such  it  was  chosen  by  Chief  Joseph,  after  having  defeated  or 
outgeneralled  and  distanced  all  known  pursuers,  and  losing  the  most 
of  his  enormous  herd  of  horses  by  the  treachery  of  his  old  allies,  the 
ever-crafty  Crows. 

It  was  this  which  prevented,  if  he  desired,  his  reaching  Sitting 
Bull,  over  the  British  border,  before  the  flanking  arrival  of  General 
Miles.  Chief  Joseph's  camps  throughout  the  National  Park  and  the 
adjacent  regions  were  uniformly  well  chosen  and  rudely  but  craftily 
prepared  for  defence ;  and  his  crossing  mighty  rivers,  scaling  snowy 
mountains,  and  traversing  yawning  canons  in  a  continuous  migration 
of  his  whole  people  for  a  distance  of  nearly  two  thousand  miles, 
mainly  through  the  wildest,  most  elevated,  craggy,  least  known,  and 
least  accessible  portion  of  the  United  States,  without  forage,  commis 
sary,  medicines,  or  supplies  other  than  furnished  by  nature  or  cap 
tured  from  his  cordon  of  able  foes,  must,  all  things  considered,  stand 
unrivalled  in  the  history  of  border  warfare  upon  this  continent. 

That  Chief  Joseph  viewed  with  derision  Generals  Howard,  Gibbon, 
Sturgis,  and  others,  really  worthy  officers,  whom  he  had  defeated  or 
distanced,  is  well  known ;  that  he  was  ignorant  of  the  flank  move 
ment  of  General  Miles  is  evident;  and  that  he  relied  upon  Sitting 
Bull  for  aid  in  defence  of  his  camp  and  immense  booty  captured  on 
the  Missouri,  and  the  slaughter  of  his  pursuers  if  they  ventured  to 
assail  his  chosen  position,  seems  very  probable ;  and  hence  only  the 
terrible  onslaught  of  General  Miles's  unexpected  forces  in  a  terrific 
snow-storm,  the  death  of  Looking-Glass,  his  ablest  chief,  the  utter 
failure  of  aid  from  Sitting  Bull,  and  the  approach  of  Howard  and 
other  pursuers,  resulted  in  his  capture  when  nearly  in  sight  of  the 
British  line. 


IQ2  NOTES. 

46  "  Then  came  the  parley  herald, — no  servile  cringing  foe, 
But  chieftain  with  his  rifle,  the  victors'  terms  to  know." 

In  this  way  only,  dauntless  to  the  last,  would  Chief  Joseph  sue  for 
terms  of  surrender,  and  even  then  accept  such  only  as  seem  to  have 
reflected  more  credit  upon  the  valor  of  the  Nez-Perces  in  the  con 
ditions  named  than  the  reputed  failure  of  their  proper  fulfilment  did 
upon  the  civil  representatives  of  the  government. 


STALWART    YEOMAN. 

«  "  Not  from  hall  of  the  Washburns, 

Who  so  long  have  honor' d  Maine, 
But  lowly  '  Buckeye'  cabin 
Our  stalwart  yeoman  came." 

General  H.  D.  Washburn  was  born  and  reared  a  hunter  in  the 
then  wilds  of  Northwestern  Ohio.  I  there  first  knew  him,  an  active, 
ambitious  youth;  thence  a  surveyor  in  Western  Indiana;  from  there 
he  became  an  active  soldier  during  the  Rebellion,  returning  a 
brigadier-general,  to  be  at  once  elected  to  Congress  over  the  great 
Democratic  champion,  Daniel  Voorhees,  often  called  the  "Tall  Syca 
more  of  the  Wabash." 

Upon  my  arrival  from  the  Upper  Yellowstone  in  June,  1870,  I 
found  him  surveyor-general  of  Montana.  Both  of  us  being  enthusi 
astic  explorers,  it  was  with  deep  regret  that  I  parted  with  him  to 
descend  the  Columbia,  hoping  we  would  unite  in  an  expedition  to 
the  Park  the  next  year.  But  perverse  fate  otherwise  ordered;  a 
small  party  was  suddenly  organized,  with  him  as  leader,  when  he  as 
usual  acquitted  himself  to  the  satisfaction  of  all,  who  by  unanimous 
vote  gave  his  name  to  the  highest  peak  within  the  Park. 

The  dangers  and  duties  of  a  useful  life,  however,  were  rapidly 
closing.  Exposure  in  the  gases  and  storms  of  the  Park,  with  efforts 
and  anxiety  for  Everts  in  his  thirty-seven  days  of  peril,  revived  a  lung 
disease  contracted  in  the  army. 

But  no  loving  wife  or  children  greeted  his  return  to  Helena.  In 
stead  came  tidings  that  after  much  of  a  summer  spent  in  trying  to 
reach  him  via  Missouri  River  and  Fort  Benton,  low  water  and  hos 
tile  Indians  compelled  their  return  to  Indiana.  There,  broken  in 


NOTES.  I93 

health  and  spirit,  utterly  worn  out  by  disease  and  exposuie,  he  reached 
them  during  the  winter,  only  to  die  in  the  arms  of  those  he  so  ten 
derly  loved. 

Not  the  ties  of  kindred,  but  of  principles,  united  him  with  the 
noble  Washburn  family  of  New  England ;  and  though  heroic  in  life 
and  noble  in  death,  the  fathomless  canon  at  the  base,  the  brilliant 
snowy  sides  and  rocky  summit  of  Mount  Washburn  may  perchance 
guide  the  tourist  in  the  Wonder-Land  long  after  all  else  of  him 
shall  be  forgotten. 


THE    DYING    MANDANS. 

47  "  Oh,  ghastly  scene  of  horror  ! 
Oh,  ghostly  town  of  doom  ! 
No  hope  in  dawn  of  morrow, 
No  halo  'mid  the  gloom." 

History  is  silent,  tradition  meagre  and  conflicting,  as  to  the  origin 
or  early  history  of  the  Mandans;  but  the  circular  ruins  of  their  earth- 
Jodges  in  numerous  deserted  villages  are  proof  positive  of  their  former 
numbers  and  successive  removals  hundreds  of  miles  up  the  Missouri 
River,  constantly  dwindling  before  their  more  savage  and  warlike 
neighbors  to  the  mouth  oi  the  Big  Knife  River. 

There  Lewis  and  Clarke  found  a  remnant  of  about  two  thousand  of 
them  in  1804,  and  subsequently  Catlin,  Irving,  and  others,  who  had 
enjoyed  their  hospitality,  with  pen  or  pencil  heralded  their  fame; 
and  there,  while  hemmed  in  their  villages  by  the  ever  ferocious 
Sioux,  they,  together  with  other  confederate  villagers,  were  nearly 
exterminated  in  1838  by  the  ravages  of  the  smallpox,  or  by  bathing, 
Indian-like,  in  the  chilling  waters  of  the  Missouri,  in  the  hope  of 
checking  the  disease. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  theorize,  as  others  have  done,  of  the  origin  ; 
these  stanzas  faintly  portray  the  fate  of  the  most  civilized  of  all  the 
Northwestern  Indian  nations. 

But,  as  being  a  subject  of  general  and  permanent  interest,  I,  from 
personal  knowledge,  endeavor  to  describe  the  famous  conical  earth- 
lodge,  which  is  conceded  to  have  been  the  invention  of  this  people. 

First,  a  dry,  commanding  position  is  chosen,  usually  in  the  bend 
in  17 


194  NOTES. 

of  a  river,  for  Loth  water  and  defence,  and  a  strong  stockade  of  log- 
pickets  constructed  across  the  neck.  Then  each  group  of  kindred  or 
friends  excavate  a  ditch  around  a  somewhat  oblong  circle,  from  forty 
to  sixty  feet  in  diameter,  some  two  feet  deep,  and  wide  enough  for 
material  to  make  the  floor  to  the  circle  or  lodge  perfectly  level,  which 
is  beaten  down  very  hard  and  smooth.  Next,  saving  a  space  thereon 
four  feet  wide  for  a  door-way,  a  compact  row  of  posts  is  set  in  the  ditch 
outside  of,  and  leaning  at  an  angle  of  ten  to  twenty  degrees  against, 
the  bank  of  earth,  rising  about  six  feet  above  it,  and  a  rough  plate 
placed  upon  the  top  entirely  around  the  circle.  Then  near  the  centre, 
four  tall,  strong  crotches  or  posts  with  notches  in  the  top  are  set,  with 
timbers  upon  them,  so  as  to  leave  a  space  four  or  five  feet  square  for 
smoke-hole  and  window.  Next,  a  compact  layer  of  rafter-timbers, 
with  the  larger  ends  on  the  outside,  and  smaller  ends  on  the  centre 
plates,  and  middle  supported  and  somewhat  elevated  by  another  row 
of  posts  and  supporting  timbers,  having  their  cracks  and  crevices  care 
fully  calked  with  coarse  grass  and  daubed  with  tcu^h  mud.  Then 
against  the  outside  posts  a  heavy  bank  of  earth  is  throw  i-,  and  over 
the  entire  roof  a  foot  or  so  of  the  alkali  earth  of  the  p'ains.  This, 
with  its  natural  tendency  to  pack,  and  being  constantly  occupied  as  a 
lookout-,  romping-,  and  lounging-ground  for  Indians  and  dogs  of 
all  ages  and  sexes,  soon  becomes  perfectly  smooth,  wind-,  water-, 
fire-,  and  bullet-proof.  In  the  centre  is  a  depression  for  the  fire,  and 
around  against  the  walls  the  family  rooms,  often  tastefully  partitioned 
by  skins  and  blankets,  and  on  the  posts  gaudy  shields  and  other  war 
weapons  and  ornaments.  In  these  the  rude  bedsteads  are  formed  by 
low  crotches  and  cross-poles,  each  covered  by  a  green  buffalo-skin, 
hair  up,  which  in  drying  stretches  very  smoothly,  and  with  abundance 
of  robes  and  blankets  forms  a  welcome  bed,  never  forgotten  by  a 
weary  or  wounded  trapper  in  a  hospitable  Mandan  lodge  as  of  old. 
Villages  thus  built  around  a  central  court  for  gossip,  dance,  and  coun 
cil  are  worthy  of  a  patent,  and  any  civilized  land  would  have  long 
since  been  plastered  with  them;  and  though  the  invention  of  a  rude 
people  in  a  prehistoric  age,  so  nicely  do  they  meet  their  requirements 
of  climate,  surroundings,  and  safety,  that  a  rude  chimney  and  an  oc 
casional  small  window,  when  near  the  whites,  are  all  the  improve 
ments  attempted  since  I  have  known  them ;  and,  in  fact,  the  earth- 
roof  is  now  in  nearly  universal  use  by  the  whites  throughout  all  those 
arid  regions. 


NOTES.  195 

THE    DYING    TRAPPER. 

*8  "  Hard  by  those  spouting  fountains, 

Far,  oh,  far  away  ! 
Done  with  his  frays  and  scoutings, 
A  dying  trapper  lay." 

These  stanzas  are  a  heartfelt  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  trapper 
comrade,  who  fell  and  died  beside  me,  as  therein  portrayed,  near  a 
spouting  fountain  in  a  lonely  glen  of  the,  as  then  called,  "  Big-horn 
Mountains,"  east  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  in  the  days  long  agone ; 
and  the  words  of  the  second  line  of  each  verse  are,  so  far  as  I  am 
aware,  the  only  ones  in  the  English  language  which  rhyme  with  the 
Ab-sa-ra-ka  Burial  Refrain. 


BOZEMAN    BOLD. 

<9  "  Bull-boat  and  raft,  mustang  and  mule." 

Bull-boat  is  an  Indian  craft  peculiar  to  the  turbid  sandbar  rivers  of 
the  treeless  plains,  where  swarming  with  buffalo,  and  are  thus  con 
structed  : 

The  hair  and  flesh  are  removed  from  a  green  buffalo-hide  which 
has  not  been  severed,  or  has  been  reattached  between  the  upper  por 
tion  of  the  hind  legs.  This  is  then  stretched  very  tightly  over  cir 
cular  hoops  and  connecting  ribs  of  willow  or  other  light  brush  or 
small  poles,  and,  being  thus  allowed  to  dry,  forms  a  circular  boat 
from  four  to  six  feet  in  diameter  and  nearly  two  feet  deep,  or  in  a 
form  not  unlike  a  huge  flaring-topped  cheese-box  or  a  monster,  very 
flat-bottomed,  potash-kettle. 

They  are  sometimes  made  of  two  hides,  well  attached  with  elk, 
beaver,  or  buffalo  sinews,  and  are  then  relatively  larger.  They  have 
little  steerage,  but,  in  border  jargon,  "heaps,  heaps  of  float,"  and 
are  so  tough  that  they  are  seldom  stove  on  rocks  or  snags,  and  so 
buoyant  as  to  whirl  around  or  glide  over  snags,  sand-bars,  or  obstacles 
liable  to  wreck  nearly  any  other  known  craft,  as  I  well  know  from 
personal  experience,  having  at  various  times  in  them  descended 
nearly  all  of  the  mighty  rivers  of  the  great  plains. 


196  NOTES. 

With  all  these  advantages  they  are  so  light  that,  after  a  brief  drying 
in  the  sun  and  wind,  the  lusty  pack-horse  squaw  of  a  lazy  village 
Indian  brave  will  dexterously  toss  one  of  these  boats  inverted  over 
her  head,  and  with  it  speedily  regain  upon  the  banks  the  distance  lost 
in  the  oblique  descent  of  crossing  the  wide  and  foaming  Missouri  or 
the  Yellowstone. 

This  is  but  one  of  the  many  inventions  of  man  for  utilizing  the 
provisions  of  nature  in  surmounting  peculiarities  of  these  regions 
seemingly  unsurmountable. 

«>  "  War-path  ford  of  Crow  and  Brule." 

An  ancient  ford  of  the  Yellowstone  near  the  confluence  of  the 
Shields  River,  below  the  gate  of  the  mountains,  famous  in  all  legends 
of  Indian  and  border  warfare. 

51  "  Sure,  phantom-warriors  caused  the  doom." 

There  is  no  question  as  to  the  date  or  the  place  of  Bozeman's 
death,  which  was  in  1867,  upon  the  south  bank  of  the  Yellowstone 
River,  a  few  miles  below  its  gate  of  the  mountains.  But  the  versions 
regarding  the  premonitions  and  reputed  vision  of  his  family,  and  the 
warning  of  his  death,  which  are  said  to  have  caused  the  stoic  indiffer 
ence  with  which  so  famous  a  scout  and  fearless  Indian-fighter  met  his 
fate,  are  singularly  conflicting. 

The  version  which,  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events  and  reputed 
dying  confessions  of  some  of  the  participants,  differs  somewhat  from 
that  current  when  I  was  there  soon  after  his  death,  and  which  was 
literally  followed  in  penning  this  poetical  tribute  to  his  deeds  and 
death. 


THE    CLOUD-CIRCLED    MOUNTAINS. 

62  "My  heart's  in  the  mountains,"  etc. 

These  stanzas  were  originally  published  as  the  close  of  an  address 
to  the  patrons  of  the  "  Norris  Suburban,"  upon  my  leaving  for  the 
Wonder- Land  in  1877. 


NOTES. 


WHERE    ELSE    ON    EARTH? 

63  "  Where  else  on  earth  does  water  furnish 

Rocky  evidence  so  strong 
Of  its  power  to  build  and  burnish, 
As  this  terrace,  high  and  long  ?" 

The  Terrace  Mountain  in  the  National  Park,  which  is  two  miles  in 
length,  nearly  one  thousand  feet  high  from  the  valley  of  the  west  fork 
of  the  Gardiner  River  above,  and  more  than  two  thousand  feet  from 
the  canon  of  the  main  Gardiner  below  it,  all  of  which  has  apparently 
been  formed  by  the  terrace  building  springs,  of  which  the  famous 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  whence  we  supply  our  table,  bath-houses, 
and  irrigate  our  garden  at  the  headquarters  of  the  Park,  is  only  the 
dwindling  remnant. 

6*  "  Long  its  waves,  by  tempest  driven, 

Fiercely  lashed  its  seething  shore." 

Doubtless  true,  as  the  shore-line  terraces  of  the  ancient  lake  are 
still  plainly  traceable  upon  the  sides  of  the  Terrace  Mountain  and  of 
Bunsen's  Peak. 

65  "  Then  the  ever-lashing  billows 

Rent  a  gap  in  mountain-side." 

This  monster  erosion  in  the  side  of  Bunsen's  Peak,  and  the  yawn 
ing  impassable  canon  of  the  west  fork  of  the  Gardiner,  between  it 
and  the  Terrace  Mountain,  are  in  plain  view  from  the  balcony  of  our 
headquarters  at  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  three  miles  distant. 

66  "  Hence  these  ruins  weird  and  fearful, 
And  the  cliffs  so  white  and  grand." 

With  a  clear-cut  outline  against  the  sky,  the  vertical  snowy-whitf 
walls  of  the  calcareous  marbleized  ancient  Hot  Spring  deposits  rise 
many  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  successive  miles  of  the  angular 
debris  along  the  Gardiner  below,  of  the  cause  or  magnitude  of  which 
the  casual  observer  will  form  no  adequate  conception. 

Only  by  days  of  rugged  dangerous  cliff-climbing  upon  and  beneath 
the  Terrace  Mountain,  near  the  Rustic  Falls,  and  along  the  foot  of 
the  white  cliffs,  can  a  tourist  obtain  even  a  superficial  knowledge 
of  the  gigantic  scale  upon  which  frost,  fire,  and  flood  have  alternately 


r98  NOTES. 

built  up,  fractured,  and  eroded  this  region.  Within  a  distance  of 
four  miles  from  our  headquarters,  and  mainly  within  plain  view 
thereof,  are  the  summits  of  Bunsen's  Peak,  as  well  as  of  the  Everts, 
Terrace,  and  Sepulchre  Mountains,  the  yawning  canons  of  the  Three 
Forks  and  main  Gardiner  Rivers,  five  cataracts,  many  interesting 
cascades  and  rapids,  and  the  grandest  evidences  of  both  ancient  and 
modern  terrace-building  springs  known  to  earth. 

In  addition  to  the  descriptions  of  all  the  scientists  who  have  visited 
the  terrace-building  springs,  a  brief  review  of  my  own  observations 
and  theory  recording  them  may  be  found  on  pages  13—16  of  my  report 
of  1879. 


BRADLEY    THE    BRAVE. 

67  "  Last  of  a  race  of  warriors  who  served  their  country  well." 

Lieutenant  James  Bradley  was  a  young  but  daring  Union  scout  in 
West  Virginia  during  the  three  months'  service  of  1861,  and  subse 
quently  served  with  distinction  under  his  father,  Colonel  E.  D.  Brad 
ley,  of  the  Sixty-Eighth  Ohio  Volunteer  Infantry,  until  the  close  of 
the  Rebellion. 

He  then  entered  the  Seventh  Regiment  United  States  Infantry, 
and  served  with  marked  ability,  courage,  and  success  upon  the 
border,  until,  in  leading  the  charge  of  General  Gibbon's  Big-Hole 
fight  with  Chief  Joseph,  he  was  the  first  white  man  killed,  and  was 
buried  amid  the  valley-willows  of  the  field. 

W  "And  green  o'er  thy  grave  twine  the  myrtle  and  laurel." 

A  heartfelt  desire  that  his  bones  might  thus  rest  beside  his  heroic 
kindred  in  the  Christian  land  of  his  birth. 

Alas!  as  shown  in  the  stanzas  called  "The  Warrior's  Grave," 
which  were  subsequently  written,  these  hopes  are  not  to  be  realized, 
but,  instead,  the  rank  weeds  and  willows  still  droop  over  his  vacant 
grave,  and  his  bones,  commingled  with  those  of  his  foes,  doubtless 
still  bleach  upon  the  slaughter-field  of  the  far-distant  mountain  where 
he  fell. 


NOTES.  199 

FROM    BIG-HORN'S    BLEAK    MOUNTAINS. 

69  «  From  Big-horn's  bleak  mountains  white  glistening  with  snow, 
The  Big-horn's  bright  fountains  through  green  meadows  flow." 

Romantically  and  enchantingly  true  of  the,  to  me,  personally  well- 
known  valley  and  its  countless  timber-fringed  streams  descending 
from  the  snowy  bordering  mountains,  and  meandering  amid  the  long, 
rolling  coteaus  to  their  confluence  with  the  river,  and  of  that  in  the 
dim  outline  of  the  horizon  with  the  mighty  Yellowstone. 

These  lines  were  inspired  by  a  distant  field-glass  view  of  this 
matchless  landscape  from  a  lofty  peak  of  the  Sierra-Shoshone  range 
during  the  explorations  of  1881. 

00  "  Till  Custer  from  Rosebud  saw  valley  as  sweet." 

Or  rather  from  the  summit  of  the  divide  to  the  Big  Rosebud  River, 
as  distinct  from  the  Rosebud  confluent  of  the  Still- Water  at  the  present 
Crow  Indian  Agency. 

This  is  far  west  of  the  Big-horn  River,  while  Custer  descended  a 
streamlet  from  the  east  to  his  last  battle  upon  the  eastern  or  Little 
Big-horn  (now  called  Custer  River)  fork  of  the  Big-horn  River, 
twenty  miles  above  their  confluence,  near  which  Fort  Custer  has  since 
been  constructed. 

61  "  And  Farrer  and  comrades." 

Colonel  Farrer,  now  of  Mount  Clemens,  Michigan,  who  led  the 
remnant  of  the  Big-horn  expedition  of  1870  safely,  bringing  in  the 
famous  Big-horn  gun  or  mountain-howitzer  to  Bozeman  late  in  that 
season. 


THE    GRANGER    SONG. 

62  "  Oh,  my  rural  friend  and  neighbor, 
If  inclined  to  roam." 

These  stanzas  are  the  portion  in  rhyme  of  an  address  written  by 
request  for  the  Granger  Clubs  of  Michigan,  when  many  persons,  to 
escape  the  hard  times  attending  a  period  of  financial  depression,  were 
rashly  rushing  from  their  peaceful  homes  in  a  wild  crusade  for  gold 


200  NOTES. 

amidst  the  hostile  savages  of  the  Black  Hills  and  Big-horn  Moun 
tains  in  1877. 


BORDER    BRAVE. 

63  "  Not  unavenged,  for  Looking-Glass." 

This  is  the  name  of  the  famous  Nez-Perce  chief  and  favorite  coun 
sellor  of  Chief  Joseph,  who  was  killed  in  the  decisive  Bear's-1'aw 
Mountain  fight. 


THE    TATTOOED    ARTIST. 

«*  "  I  sing  of  an  artist,  scribe,  poet,  and  seer, 
A  lover  of  nature  and  scoffer  at  fear." 

This  poem  has  a  substantial  basis  of  fact,  as  may  be  attested  by  the 
hero,  if  living,  as  well  as  by  many  eye-witnesses  of  that  enthusiastic 
but  somewhat  visionary  pilgrim  correspondent's  sketching  trip  from  a 
Missouri  River  steamer,  long  since  the  days  of  Catlin.  Although 
the  puncture,  paint,  and  singing,  as  well  as  the  nude  gantlet  running 
over  cactus,  cur,  and  breech-clout,  are,  with  poetic  license,  somewhat 
exaggerated,  still  they  were  ample  for  our  artist,  and  no  further  ac 
quaintance  desired  with  his  Indian  friends  and  their  families  at  home. 
Indeed,  sudden,  radical,  and  lasting  changes  in  the  opinions  of 
eastern  tourists  upon  their  forming  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Lo  and 
his  family  at  home  are  neither  rare  nor  strange,  as  there  is  much  to 
be  learned  and  regretted  upon  the  rival  sides  of  the  Indian  question, 
both  of  which,  in  these  legends  and  notes,  it  has  been  my  purpose  to 
faithfully  portray,  rather  than  to  conceal  or  misrepresent. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  Indian  words  used  in  this  torture-chant 
are  not  wholly  Da-ko-tian,  but  those  of  other  tongues  or  jargons  which 
seemed  best  calculated  for  the  rapid  reiteration  peculiar  to  all  Indian 
songs  in  their  circling  dances.  The  literal  rendition  of  these  songs 
in  English  is  extremely  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  because  of  the 
construction  of  their  sentences,  which  read  backwards,  as  the  thir- 


NOl^ES.  201 

teenth  line  in  the  first  Indian  chant,  "  Wi-ta-wa-ta  (ship)  sa-pa 
(black)  wan  (one),"  or  "  ship  black  one,"  is,  in  English,  one,  or  "  A 
black  ship." 

For  the  symphony  of  versification  license  is  also  taken  in  the 
accent  of  syllables,  as  Wa'kan,  which  is  thus  transferred  from  the 
second  syllable  to  the  first,  as  usually  spoken  by  the  white  men. 


THE    MOSQUITO. 

«6  "  Like  hornet  hordes  aroused  to  fury, 
They  greet  us  to  their  home." 

Prominent  in  the  journals  of  all  explorers,  travellers,  and  navi 
gators  since  and  including  those  of  Lewis  and  Clarke  are  their 
execrations  upon  the  mosquito  tormentors  of  the  Missouri  and  the 
lower  Yellowstone. 

To  those  pestiferous  insects,  by  whom,  despite  a  turf-smudge,  thick 
gloves,  mosquito-net,  and  head-gear,  I  was  nearly  devoured  near 
Fort  Buford  while  penning  these  lines,  are  they  feelingly,  if  not 
affectionately,  dedicated. 


FRIGHTENED    HANS. 

66  "  The  shining  sands  of  coteaus  reflecting  heat  like  glass." 

This,  as  is  well  known,  is  caused  by  the  action  of  the  constant  and 
often  high  winds  of  those  regions  in  carrying  along  all  the  finer  and 
lighter  portions  of  the  soil,  thus  polishing  like  a  mirror  the  upper 
surface  of  the  pavement-like  coating  of  those  which  remain. 

"  Mirage  of  gushing  fountains  dispel  their  frantic  fears." 

Few  earthly  views  are  as  enchantingly  beautiful  or  as  fatally  allur 
ing  as  are  the  mirage-built  phantom  groves,  lakes,  and  meandering 
streams  to  the  thirsty,  parched,  and  panting  pilgrim  upon  the  treeless 
prickly-pear  plains  or  grease-wood,  alkali  deserts  of  the  mighty  West. 


202  NOTES. 

Nor  are  these  phantoms,  in  accordance  with  popular  belief,  always 
seen  inverted,  but  often  in  their  natural  position,  and  so  lifelike  and 
real  that  only  the  practised  eye  of  the  rover  will  perceive  that  even 
the  lakes  and  streams  are  not  depressed  beneath,  but  slightly  elevated 
above,  the  real  horizon,  hanging,  as  it  were,  in  the  air,  with  a  thin, 
hazy  outline  of  the  earth's  surface  barely  perceptible  beneath  them. 

W  "  fear  of  scalding  led  to  roasting  on  the  fated  Yellowstone." 

The  narrative  of  the  wanderings  of  Hans  and  family,  his  scalding, 
fright,  and  Teutonic  ejaculations  at  the  hot  spring  in  the  Gallatin 
Valley,  as  well  as  their  wild  stampede  and  speedy  massacre  by  the 
Indians  upon  the  Yellowstone,  are  all  substantially  true,  thus  only 
leaving  their  death  by  the  ancient  Indian  mode  of  roasting  not  well 
attested,  and  hence  inferentially  chargeable  to  poetical  license  by  the 
author. 


AFAR    FROM    THE    CITIES    AND    HAMLETS 

OF    MEN. 

68  "  Afar  from  the  cities  and  hamlets  of  men, 

I  follow  the  streamlet  through  forest  and  glen  ; 

The  elk  with  proud  antlers  enlivens  the  bowers, 

And  brilliant  and  fragrant  the  meadows  with  flowers." 

It  is  believed  that  the  accuracy  of  this  description  of  the  broad, 
grove-dotted  valley  of  Cascade  Creek  above  its  last  canon  and  falls 
will  ever  be  conceded  by  any  candid  observer. 

Equally  true  was  the  presence  of  the  then  docile  elk  and  deer  in 
fabulous  numbers  when  my  old  comrade,  Frederick  Bottler,  there, 
with  seven  rapid  discharges  of  his  unerring  rifle,  killed  five  huge 
antlered  elk,  as,  under  the  title  of  "  The  Successful  Hunter,"  is  im 
mortalized  in  one  of  the  artist  Jackson's  photographic  views  of  the 
Hayden  Geological  Exploration  of  1872. 

60  "  As  thunders  from  heavens  unclouded  I  hear." 

A  feeling  of  awe  (perhaps  partially  superstitious)  difficult  to  escape, 
explain,  or  even  describe,  is  felt,  when  reaching  the  dark  pine-fringed 


A'OTES.  203 

summits  of  the  divide  upon  the  trail  from  the  open  meadows  of  the 
cascade,  upon  a  bright,  cloudle-s  sunjmer's  clay  one  emerges  at  once 
into  full  view  of  the  halo-fringed  clouds  of  mist,  and  into  hearing 
of  the  heavy  booms  of  the  canon-hidden  triple  falls  and  roaring 
rapids  of  the  Mystic  River,  the  latter  ever  varying  in  volume  and 
cadence,  and  the  former  in  their  form  and  brilliancy  of  coloring  with 
the  direction  or  velocity  of  the  balmy  mountain  breeze. 


70  "  Adown  to  the  lichens,  mist-nourished  and  green, 

Where  the  floods  as  a  deluge  from  heaven  are  seen." 

As  at  other  great  cascades  or  cataracts,  the  showers  of  spray  at  the 
Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  nourish  a  carpet  of  moss  and  lichens 
of  various  forms  and  brilliant  shades  of  yellow  and  green  coloring, 
which  form  a  dense  but  slightly  adherent,  and  to  the  footsteps 
treacherous  covering  to  the  dripping  rocks  around  them. 

This  I  found  dangerously  evident  upon  the  lower  portion  and 
nearly  vertical  and  crumbling  brilliantly  red-  and  yellow-tinted  walls 
of  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Yellowstone,  upon  my  descent  thereof 
alone  in  1875. 

This  was  from  where  our  rustic  bridge  now  spans  Spring  Creek, 
adown  or  near  its  jagged  waterway  to  the  river,  a  portion  of  which, 
by  the  subsequent  dislodgment  of  a  huge  mass  of  the  wall-rock  at 
the  Red  Pinnacles,  is  now  impassable. 

The  present  route  is  along  a  rude  pathway  which  I  recently  made 
from  just  above  these  pinnacles,  directly  across  the  face  of  the  sliding 
shales,  to  a  jutting  point  of  crumbling  rocks  about  five  hundred  feet 
directly  below  our  now  pole-railed  Point  Lookout,  and  thence  by 
a  rough,  very  steep,  but  direct  descent  of  five  hundred  feet  to  the 
foaming  river. 

In  small  parties  only  should  persons  attempt  this  descent,  as  to  the 
usual  danger  of  a  misstep  and  headlong  descent  to  horrid  death  is 
the  still  greater  one  from  dislodged  masses  or  fragments  of  the  crum 
bling  wall-rock,  which  in  velocity  nearly  and  in  danger  fully  equal 
projectiles  from  a  park  of  artillery.  This  is  now  the  nearest  point  of 
descent  or  of  approach  to  the  foot  of  the  Great  Falls  upon  the  north 
west  side;  but  by  rafting,  or,  in  very  low  water,  fording  the  river 
something  less  than  a  mile  above  the  Upper  Falls,  or  at  them  if  the 
projected  bridge  be  constructed,  tourists  will  be  able  to  reach  the 
grove-capped  cliff  overlooking  the  Great  Kails.  Thence,  by  proper 


204  NOTES. 

effort  and  care  from  crumbling  rocks  and  slippery  lichens,  persons 
may  safely  descend  to  the  river  and  as  near  to  the  foot  of  the  Great 
Falls  as  the  matchless  rebound  of  the  sheet  of  water  from  its  nearly 
four  hundred  feet  of  vertical  descent  will  allow,  and  where  it  is 
believed  the  poet's  description  of  lichens,  mist-clouds,  and  halos,  as 
well  as  of  "  the  floods  as  a  deluge  from  heaven,"  will  be  verified  and 
appreciated. 

Tl  "  Henceforth  be  my  music  the  cataract's  roar." 

At  the  risk  of  seeming  egotism,  I  would  briefly  note  that  these 
words  differ  more  in  form  than  in  sentiment  from  those  to  be  found 
in  my  printed  "  Journals  of  Rambles  in  the  Far  West"  at  the  time  of 
my  first  visit  to  these  falls. 

Nor  have  my  subsequent  encampments  in  the  Glen  of  the  Cascade, 
while  making  the  bridge  and  other  improvements  above  the  Grotto 
Pool  and  Crystal  and  other  falls,  or  at  my  other  secluded  haunts  amid 
their  commingled  spray  and  thunders  during  Indian  raids,  lessened 
but  rather  increased  my  attachment  for  this  rainbow-spanned  refuge 
from  the  gilded  haunts  of  fashion  and  pleasure,  and  the  crafty  wiles 
of  the  politician,  the  speculator,  or  the  money-lender,  in  these  days 
when  proffered  friendship  is  too  oft  a  lure,  and  real  friendship  a 
cherished  vision  of  the  past,— in  these  enlightened  but  degenerate 
days,  when  far  too  often  robbery  and  betrayal  of  public  trusts  are 
viewed  and  punished  in  inverse  ratio  to  the  magnitude  of  the  crime 
and  the  numbers  and  position  of  the  shares  of  the  spoils,  and  man  is 
prized  less  for  his  birthright  as  such,  or  for  his  principles  and  practices 
of  true  manhood,  than  for  the  wealth  or  the  influence  which  by  any 
means,  ever  so  reprehensible,  he  may  have  acquired. 

Hence  my  changeless  attachment  to  these  unpolluted  scenes  of  the 
grandest  handiwork  of  nature's  God  as  a  refuge  alike  in  life,  and  in 
death  a  tomb,  earnestly  trusting  that  if  in  this  wild  region  it  be  mine 
to  fall,  my  final  resting-place  may  be  beneath  the  moaning  pines  and 
balsams  of  my  chosen  camping-grove  whenever  able  to  cross  the 
river  to  reach  it  upon  the  southern  cliffs,  amid  the  spray,  overlooking 
the  Great  Falls,  that  my  unfettered  spirit  in  its  earthly  visitations 
may  be  greeted  by  the  scenes  and  sounds  so  appreciated  and  enjoyed 
while  tenanting  its  transient  refuge  of  clay. 


NOTES.  205 


OH,   IS    THERE    IN    THIS   WORLD    SO    DREAR? 

72  "  In  crumbling  home  of  friends  afar." 

The  ruins  of  the  famous  Baronet  cabin,  upon  the  high,  huge  granite 
boulder-strewn  basaltic  point  above  the  confluence  of  the  two  forks 
of  the  Yellowstone  River. 

It  occupied  the  site  of  one  previously  burned  by  the  Indians,  which 
(aside  from  the  loop-hole,  earth-roofed  block-house  of  unknown  build 
ers,  the  ruins  of  which  are  referred  to  on  page  7  of  my  official  report 
of  1878)  was  the  first  residence  known  to  have  ever  been  constructed 
by  white  men  within  the  subsequently  dedicated  Yellowstone  National 
Park,  and  at  few  places,  other  than  the  regular  battle-fields  in  all  these 
regions,  has  there  occurred  more  varied  or  thrilling  scenes  than  within 
or  around  it. 

73  "  Above  the  ceaseless  dash  and  roar, 

Where  mountain  torrents  greet." 

The  forks  of  the  Yellowstone  River,  forty  miles  below  the  lake  and 
twenty  below  the  Great  Falls,  upon  its  main  fork,  and  where,  only  from 
these  falls  to  the  confluence  of  the  Gardiner  River,  a  distance  of  fifty 
miles  in  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Yellowstone,  is  there  a  wagon-route 
of  approach  to  the  stream. 

Neither  of  these  dashing  mountain  torrents  are  there  ever  frozen 
over;  safely  fordable,  or  even  approachable,  where  the  first,  and  for 
ten  years  the  only,  bridge  ever  crossing  any  portion  of  the  mighty 
Yellowstone  River,  was  built  over  the  main  fork,  just  above  their 
confluence,  by  Jack  Baronet  and  other  Clarke's  Fork  miners  in  1871. 

This  poem  was  inspired  and  partly  written  by  the  camp-fire  when 
I  was  alone  at  this  cabin  in  August,  1877. 

I  then  found  it  only  a  haunt  of  howling  beasts  and  screaming 
birds  of  prey,  gathered  upon  the  decaying  bones  and  decomposing 
fragments  of  the  f  esh  and  hides  of  game  left  by  Charley  Reynolds 
and  other  friends,  whose  companionship  I  had  there  enjoyed  in  1875, 
and  from  a  soul-harrowing  view  of  whose  bleaching  bones  upon  the 
Custer  slaughter-field  I  had  just  returned. 

Sad  as  were  my  feelings  then,  a  forecast  of  the  events  soon  to 
follow  could  have  only  darkened  the  shade. 

Within  one  week  from  that  time  I  passed  that  bridge,  clinging  to 
18 


206  NOTES. 

my  horse,  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood  from  an  accidental  wound  re 
ceived  at  Tower  Falls,  and  within  one  month  thereafter  the  trail 
which  I  then  followed  to  the  falls  of  the  Gardiner  was  dusty  with  the 
tramp  of  a  portion  of  Chief  Joseph's  hostile  Nez-Perces  and  their 
captured  horses,  and  encrimsoned  with  the  gore  of  their  slaughtered 
owners  ;  the  bridge  was  partly  burned  by  them  in  their  matchless 
retreat,  and  the  cabin  was  dismantled  for  material  for  its  repair  by 
General  Howard,  in  his  long,  patient,  and  then  misunderstood  and 
misrepresented  pursuit. 


TO    THE    TIE    AT    HOME. 

M  Far  away  on  the  cliffs  of  this  wild  roaring  river." 

These  stanzas,  which  doubtless  evince  more  paihos  than  poetry, 
may  be  less  esteemed  by  the  public  than  the  poet,  from  the  circum 
stances  under  which  they  were  written. 

As  noted  in  my  journal,  and  published  in  my  report  of  1877,  by 
the  sudden  sundering  of  a  stirrup-strap  I  was  precipitated  from  a 
bucking  horse  over  a  ledge  of  rocks,  so  seriously  injuring  my  neck 
and  spine  as  to  compel  me  to  return  to  the  head  of  the  falls  of  the 
middle  fork  of  the  East  Gardiner,  where  I  fainted  from  the  loss  of 
blood  and  over-exertion. 

After  recovering  sufficiently  to  crawl  to  the  brink  and  swallow  a 
cupful  of  the  delicious  water,  by  painful  effort  I  was  enabled  to  make 
a  rude  couch  of  my  blanket  and  some  balsam  boughs  beneath  the 
trees  at  the  eastern  end  of  where  the  bridge  now  spans  the  quivering 
brink  of  the  falls. 

There,  while  by  weakness  and  the  music  of  the  falling  waters  lulled 
into  semi-unconsciousness,  the  prelude  and  much  of  the  poem  was 
pencilled  in  my  memorandum-book,  hopeful  that  if,  as  then  seemed 
probable,  I  should  there  perish  alone,  my  remains  might  perchance 
be  found  and  these  lines  reach  her  for  whom  they  were  intended. 


NOTES,  207 


THE    WARRIOR'S    GRAVE. 

75  "  A  mould'ring  plate  and  headboard." 

This  is  all  that  was  found  upon  Gibbons's  and  Chief  Joseph's  battle 
field  of  the  Big- Hole  Pass,  which  I  could  so  fully  identify  as  pertain 
ing  to  the  fated  "  Bradley  the  Brave"  as  to  feel  justified  in  conveying 
to  his  mourning  friends. 

This  visit  was  made  through  deep  snows  from  the  Bitter  Root 
Valley,  some  months  after  the  publication  of  my  tribute  to  his 
memory,  and,  alas !  the  bones  of  that  friend  of  other  days  and 
scenes  had  been  dragged  from  their  shallow  resting-place  amid  the 
willows,  near  where  he  fell,  by  ravenous  beasts  who  still  haunted  the 
field. 

At  the  time  of  my  visit  they  nightly  retramped  the  snow,  and,  in 
search  for  food,  overturned  the  remnants  of  garments,  blankets,  and 
horse-hides,  and  in  hideous  revels  more  fully  commingled  the  bleach 
ing  bones  of  fallen  friend  and  foe. 


BLAZE    BRIGHTLY,    O   CAMP-FIRE! 

W  "  Earth's  treasures  all  vanished,  no  heaven  to  gain." 

The  immediate  incentive  for  penning  these  stanzas  was  the  jocular 
remark  of  a  comrade  of  its  being  fortunate  for  him  that,  when  he 
had  once,  within  the  space  of  a  few  months,  squandered  a  fortunate 
stake,  or  placer  find,  of  seventy-five  thousand  dollars,  that  it  was  not 
a  hundred  thousand,  or  he  could  not  have  survived  the  attendant 
dissipation. 

This,  and  similar  admissions  of  other  comrades  beside  our  cedar- 
sheltered  camp-fires  during  a  terrific  mountain  snow-storm,  recalled 
painfully  recollections  of  the  needless  failure  and  hopeless  fall  of 
kind,  and  some  of  them  morally-reared  and  well-educated  comrades 
gone,  still  destitute  of  graves,  or  filling  only  dishonored  ones,  all 
along  my  checkered  pathway  of  wandering  upon  the  border. 

Hence  these  lines  of  pensive,  mournful  reflection  are  published, 


2o8  NOTES. 

hopeful  that  they  may  beneficially  recall  in  the  really  noble  heart  of 
some  rough-clad  mountaineer  the  scenes  of  his  innocent  childhood 
and  guileless  youth,  the  instructions  of  the  week-day  and  the  lessons 
of  the  Sabbath-school,  the  tender  admonitions  and  parting  prayers 
of  loving  kindred  now  peacefully  slumbering  beneath  the  willows  in 
the  consecrated  cemetery  of  some  distant  Christian  land. 


UNION    OF    THE    VALLEYS. 

77  "  For  the  ever-fickle  river  veered  away  to  meet  its  mate." 

A  proverbial  characteristic  of  the  Missouri  River  is  the  ceaseless 
shifting  of  its  muddy  channel,  which,  by  occurring  at  the  point  of  its 
confluence  with  the  Yellowstone,  effected  the  channel  at  the  fur- 
traders'  old  Fort  Union  above  it,  thus  contributing  to  its  abandonment 
and  the  subsequent  construction  of  Fort  Buford  below  the  confluence. 

78  "  And  the  fort,  its  cache  and  lodges,  were  abandoned  to  their  fate." 

The  bank  of  the  Missouri  River  above  Fort  Union  being  very  dry 
and  easily  excavated,  has  been  from  time  immemorial  a  favorite 
cacheing  site;  and  having  assisted  in  making  several  there  and  many 
elsewhere,  I  will  briefly  describe  the  operation.  This  originally 
French  word  cache  (usually  pronounced  cash),  or  hiding-place,  has 
long  been  the  universal  and  appropriate  name  for  a  deposit  of  corn, 
furs,  blankets,  or  in  fact  anything  a  party  desires  to  bury  safely  for 
another  occasion,  usually  for  concealment,  but  sometimes  only  for 
safety  from  the  animals  and  elements.  In  horizontal  layers  of  soft  sand 
stone,  like  that  near  Fort  Union,  a  place  is  selected  where  there  is  a 
foot  or  so  of  loose  sand-covering,  which  is  removed,  and  a  circular 
hole  large  enough  to  admit  a  man  is  after  a  foot  or  so  gradually  en 
larged  to  the  desired  size,  shaped  when  completed  much  like  a  very 
low  broad  earthen  jug.  When  the  floor  and  sides  are  covered  with 
a  layer  of  dry  brush  or  bulrush  mats,  or  both,  it  is  filled  with  the 
utmost  care,  that  it  may  not  settle  and  betray  the  site.  The  top  is 
then  crammed  with  hides,  the  mouth  well  filled  with  the  removed 
rocks,  the  sand  replaced,  and  every  vestige  of  goods,  rocks,  etc., 
carefully  removed  in  sacks  or  skins,  and  thrown,  often  several  miles 


NOTES.  209 

away,  into  a  stream  or  lake.  When  thus  completed,  a  camp  fire  over 
or  near  the  mouth,  with  the  usual  tramping  of  men  and  animals,  and 
a  few  hours  of  sand-drifting,  so  fully  obliterate  all  trace  that  actual 
knowledge  or  digging  alone  will  disclose  it.  When  the  site  is  a  pure 
sand-bank,  the  cache  must  widen  less  and  be  better  supported  and 
packed  ;  and  if  in  a  grove,  a  dry  bush  or  a  cedar  or  other  hardy  shrub, 
not  soon  wilting  or  changing  color,  even  if  dying,  is  most  carefully 
cut  around  and  lifted,  with  all  the  earth  possible  attached,  upon  a 
skin  or  blanket,  and,  when  completed,  replaced;  and  so  well  is  all 
concealed  in  these  vast  regions,  that  I  have  little  doubt  fewer  caches 
are  actually  found  and  robbed. than  are  lost  by  the  sudden  removal  or 
death  of  the  owners. 

The  ruins  of  old  Fort  Union  are  still  plainly  traceable  between  the 
present  earth-lodge  village  of  the  mongrel  Indians  and  the  long  line 
of  mainly  abandoned  caches  along  the  sandy  bluffs  above  it. 

79  "  Oh,  for  bard  to  chant  their  requiem  !     Oh,  for  storied  pen  to  save." 

This  is  the  language  of  a  heartfelt  desire,  which  above  all  else  has 
cheered  my  untutored  pen  in  tracing  as  well  as  able  a  few  of  the 
countless  well-known  incidents  and  legends  of  the  border,  hopeful 
that  the  basis  and  language  of  fact  may  somewhat  atone  for  the  want 
of  plot  and  finish  found  in  the  polished  works  of  fiction. 


OH,  FOR  BARD  TO  TRULY  TREASURE. 

80  "Oh,  for  bard  to  truly  treasure 

Border  scenes  of  days  agone  !" 

To  a  person  reared  upon  the  border  and  familiar  with  the  thrilling 
scenes  and  trying  reverses  of  a  life  among  the  animals  and  aborigines 
of  the  plains,  the  deserts,  and  the  mountains  of  what  was  then  truly 
the  pathless  unknown  West,  the  sincere  but  erroneous  eastern  senti- 
mentalism  regarding  the  Indian  upon  one  hand,  and  the  less  humane 
but  more  practical  opinions  of  the  western  pioneer  upon  the  other, 
offer  food  for  mature  reflection,  a  broad  field  for  the  gleaning  of 
facts,  and  ample  scope  for  marshalling  and  recording  them  in  au 
thentic  history  by  an  abler  pen  than  mine. 
o  18* 


210  NOTES. 


But  time  is  invaluable ;  the  fiat  of  fate  has  gone  forth  that  the  on 
ward  march  of  the  race  of  resistless  destiny  is  to  mould  or  annihilate 
all  along  its  pathway;  that  the  wild  man  and  the  wild  beast  shall 
alike  become  civilized  or  domesticated  and  useful  in  a  practical  age 
of  progress  if  they  will,  and  be  exterminated  if  they  will  not. 

Hence  the  constant  evidence  that  the  blood-curdling  war-whoop, 
the  defiant  battle  rally,  the  rifle-ring,  dying  scream,  and,  alas!  the 
sickening  scalp-dance  of  to-day  are  replaced  by  the  peaceful  music 
of  the  woodsman's  axe  or  the  blacksmith's  forge  and  factory  whistle, 
the  lowing  of  domestic  flocks  and  herds,  or  the  gleaner's  carol  around' 
the  peaceful  homes  and  crowded  school-rooms  of  to-morrow. 

The  spouting  heart's-blood  and  festering  flesh,  alas  !  of  fallen  ones 
upon  the  gory  fields  of  death  of  the  season  past  fertilize  the  growing 
plant  upon  the  harvest-fields  of  gladdening  grain  of  that  to  come,  for 
the  use  of  a  people  who  cease  from  their  labors,  and  at  the  cheering 
peals  of  the  Sabbath  bell  congregate  in  their  steeplcd  churches,  to 
return  thanks  for  the  countless  blessings  of  earth  and  the  priceless 
promises  of  Heaven. 

And  hence,  sternly  but  un regretfully,  the  polished  ploughshare  of 
human  progress  shall  be  driven  lough-shod  and  relentless  alike  over 
the  deserted  village-sites  and  decaying  bones  of  a  race  hesitating  to 
enlist  under  its  floating  banner  and  keep  step  to  its  marching  music. 

The  generation  of  the  path-finding,  death-daring  planters  of  civil 
ization  and  their  paint-  and  plume-bedecked  warrior  opponents  is 
rapidly  gliding  away;  and  if  this  duty  of  gathering  and  truthfully 
recording  incidents  of  the  border  be  neglected  until  the  actors  are 
fled,  ere  long  they  will  be  known  only  in  the  unreal  sensation-tales 
of  dime  novels  or  yellow-covered  literature,  or  else  merged  in  the 
wild  legends  of  mingled  fact  and  fiction,  of  truth  and  romance,  to 
swell  the  volumes  of  unreliable  future  history,  which  might  have  been 
authentic. 


RUSTIC  BRIDGE  AND  CRYSTAL  FALLS. 

81  "  Will  these  feet  that  trip  so  lightly 
O'er  this  structure  rude  but  strong." 

These  stanzas  were  pencilled,  read,  and  dedicated    September  4, 
1880,  to  the  first  party  of  tourists  who  crossed  the  then  unfinished 


NOTES.  2II 

bridge  over  the  Grotto  Pool  and  Crystal  Falls,  a  sketch  of  which  may 
be  found  on  page  21  of  my  report  of  1881,  and  also  with  this  poem. 

Names  of  the  persons  comprising  the  party :  Mrs.  G.  W.  Monroe, 
Mrs.  W.  J.  Beal,  Miss  Mamie  Evans,  Miss  Mamie  Langehorne,  Miss 
Prudence  Burchard,  Miss  Nettie  Ray,  Mr.  Jack  Baronet,  Mr.  George 
Miles,  Mr.  Walter  Burleigh,  Mr.  David  Roberts. 

Of  these  persons  Jack  Baronet  was  the  guide;  George  Miles,  of 
Miles  City,  upon  the  Lower  Yellowstone,  is  a  nephew  of  the  gallant 
fighting  general  N.  D.  Miles,  and  the  others  were  residents  of  Boze- 
man,  Montana  Territory,  or  their  friends. 


HIGH    TOWERS    THE    CRAGGY    SUMMIT. 

82  "And  beavers  build  their  wiek-e-ups  where  warm  the  waters  flow." 
As  may  be  found  in  the  Glossary,  wickeups  is  the  Sho-shone  Indian 
name  for  the  conical  hollow  brush-heap  often  used  by  them  for  a 
summer  dwelling,  and  by  the  pigmy  Pi-utes  and  Digger  Indians  of 
the  Humboldt  and  other  greasewood  alkali  deserts  at  any  season  of 
the  year  where  no  cave  in  the  rocks  or  lava-beds  are  convenient,  and 
they  are  not  too  lazy  or  too  busy  in  securing  a  food-supply  of  berries, 
crickets,  and  lizards  to  build  one. 

These  are  all  of  one  story,  while  those  of  the  beaver  are  of  two, 
one  of  which  is  partially  and  the  other  wholly  above  water,  and, 
saving  the  size,  is  in  all  respects  the  better  and  more  permanent 
structure,  and  the  occupants  far  more  ingenious,  industrious,  and 
provident. 

The  favorite  haunts  of  these  animals  are  the  tepid  dam-obstructed 
•outlets  of  many  of  the  hot-spring  basins,  which  are  seldom  frozen 
over  so  as  to  obstruct  their  use  as  canals  for  the  floating  of  their  sup 
plies  of  willows  or  other  wood,  upon  which  or  the  bark  of  it  they 
mainly  subsist. 

83  "  Gigantic  wrecks  of  forests,  all  fossilized  to  stone  " 

In  the  face  of  the  usually  nearly  vertical  cliffs,  more  than  two 
thousand  feet  high,  fronting  the  Soda-Butte  and  the  east  fork  of  the 
Yellowstone  River,  near  their  confluence,  may  be  seen  as  plainly  as 


212  NOTES. 


in  bas-relief  countless  trunks  of  the  primeval  forest-trees,  still  erect 
as  they  grew,  or  prostrate  as  they  were  crushed,  buried,  and  fossilized 
in  the  successive  or  alternating  deposits  of  submergence  and  enormous 
overflow  of  oozy  volcanic  mud  and  slime.  The  long  horizontal  lines 
of  demarcation  between  the  various  deposits  arc  clear  and  distinct, 
and  some  of  them  so  thin  that  the  silisified  trees  (which  were  mainly 
diverge  from  those  now  growing  in  the  Park,  and  in  size  fairly  rival 
ling  those  of  the  Pacific  coast)  must  have  extended  through  and  above 
them. 

Startling  as  is  this  theory  of  the  successive  alternations  of  submer 
gence,  oozy  overflow,  forest  growths  vertically,  the  roots  of  one  above 
or  in  place  of  the  tops  of  that  beneath  it,  and  seemingly  incredible 
the  hypothesis,  yet  it  devolves  upon  future  geological  research  to  dis 
prove  surface  indications  and  establish  a  better  one. 

As  many  of  these  trunks,  both  erect  and  prostrate,  are  in  sections 
containing  caskets  lined  with  beautiful  amethyst  and  other  crystals, 
the  fossil-forests  alone,  of  the  countless  marvels  of  the  Wonder-Land, 
are  to  the  scientist  and  the  nation  worth  the  cost  of  the  dedication, 
protection,  and  opening  routes  of  access  to  all  of  them. 


84  "  All  nature  seems  in  contrast,  in  beauty,  size,  or  awe,— 
Creation,  growth,  and  ruin,  the  universal  law  !" 

Literally  and  proverbially  true  of  nearly  every  portion,  feature,  and 
marvel  of  the  people's  Wonder-Land. 


LONELY    GLEN. 

86  "  'Tis  lion's  scream  resounding." 

The  midnight  screams  of  a  cougar,  or  mountain-lion,  echoing  from 
the  cliffs  to  my  lonely  camp-fire  in  the  glen  just  above  the  Great  Falls 
of  the  Yellowstone,  where  one  member  of  a  party  of  tourists  was 
killed,  others  wounded,  and  all  of  their  animals  and  outfit  captured 
by  the  hostile  Nez-Perces  in  1877. 


NOTES.  213 


REYNOLDS'S    DIRGE. 

86  "  My  fagots  were  ruins  of  teepee  and  tent, 

'Mid  war-robes  and  blankets  all  gory  and  rent." 

Literally  true,  at  the  camp-fire  of  myself  and  Baronet,  upon  the 
site  of  the  hastily  abandoned  Indian  village  just  below  Reno's  valley 
field. 

From  this,  as  referred  to  in  the  note  to  Gallant  Charley  Reynolds, 
we  escaped  in  the  twilight  to  a  little  grove  of  cottonwoods  in  a  Jeep 
wash-out  of  the  plains,  five  or  six  miles  towards  the  Big-horn,  and 
then  cooked  and  ate  a  slight  supper  nearly  under  the  trees  then  sup 
porting  the  remains  of  several  blanket-robed  braves,  who  were  doubt 
less  killed  or  mortally  wounded  in  the  Guster  or  Reno  fights. 

Hence  we  proceeded  cautiously  some  miles  farther  towards  the 
Big-horn,  and  bivouacked  until  morning,  meanwhile  securing  such 
sleep  as  we  could  obtain,  each  with  a  hand  holding  one  end  of  the 
lariat  of  hfs  grazing  horse,  with  the  stars  for  his  canopy,  blanket- 
covered  cactus  for  his  couch,  and  saddle  for  his  pillow. 

For  a  mountaineer  I  am  not  deemed  superstitious ;  but  from  the 
proximity  of  the  bones  of  my  comrade  Charley  of  a  few  months  pre 
ceding,  then  attached  to  the  cantle  of  my  Spanish  saddle,  the  fervid 
imagination  of  nerves  overstrained  amid  the  recent  harrowing  scenes, 
or  merely  the  flickering  phantoms  of  a  poet's  vision,  the  incidents  of 
the  dirge  were  conjured,  and  at  the  dawn  the  last  verse  was  hastily 
written,  the  first  being  subsequently  prefixed. 


8/IN    CABIN,    CAMP,    OR    COUNCIL. 

The  poem  dedicated  to  General  H.  D.  Washburn  with  the  accom 
panying  notes  explains  our  nearly  life-long  acquaintance  and  friend 
ship,  and  hence  desire  that  my  explorations  in  those  regions  should 
be  commemorated  by  the  second  peak  of  Mount  Washburn,  rather 
than  the  first  of  the  Gallatin  range,  which  I  explored  in  1875. 

During  October,  1878,  accompanied  by  the  daring  mountaineers 
Adam  Miller  and  George  Rowland,  by  dangerous  cliff-climbing  in  the 


214 


NOTES. 


snow  along  the  terribly-broken  brink  of  the  Grand  Canon,  I  turned 
the  northernmost  and  far  the  worst  spur  of  Mount  Washburn,  and 
camped  in  a  clump  of  pines  and  balsams,  upon  one  of  the  larger  trees 
of  which  our  record  may  still  be  found. 

This  is  one-fourth  of  a  mile  easterly  and  several  hundred  feet 
below  where  our  Grand  Canon  trail  now  crosses  the  spur  in  Rowland's 
Pass,  which  alone  I  discovered,  explored,  and  named  the  same  even 
ing,  while  Miller  shot  an  elk  and  Rowland  used  a  portion  of  the  flesh 
in  the  preparation  of  our  welcome  evening's  repast. 

Beside  this  camp-fire  amid  the  snow,  exhilarated  by  the  first  suc 
cessful  effort  of  scaling  this  spur  of  Mount  Washburn  by  white  men 
of  which  1  have  any  knowledge,  and  justly  confident  that  we  had 
found  a  new  and  valuable  route  between  the  snowy  mountain-crest 
and  the  yawning  canon-brink,  these  few  lines  of,  as  I  then  believed, 
correct  dedication  of  these  towering  peaks  were  written. 

The  subsequent  discovery  that  Prof.  F.  V.  Hayden  had  meanwhile 
very  properly  commemorated  the  visit,  in  1874,  of  the  famous  Scottish 
traveller  and  writer,  the  Earl  Dun-Raven,  and  transferred  my  name 
from  that  now  called  Bell's  Peak,  of  the  Gallatin  range,  to  the  one 
which  still  retains  it  towards  the  Goblin-Land,  I  cheerfully  acqui 
esced  ;  but  the  pith  of  the  poem  vanished,  and  is  published  only  in 
connection  with  historical  facts  deemed  more  valuable. 


THE    ARTIST    STANLEY. 

88  "  But '  tineas'  and  '  War-path'  and  '  Signal'  shall  stay." 
These  are  the  names  of  some  of  the  few  paintings,  now  chromos, 
which  were  saved  from  the  general  destruction  of  the  artist  Stanley's 
famous  gallery  of  Indian  paintings  by  an  accidental  conflagration  in 
a  room  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  in  Washington,  where  they  had 
been  placed  for  safety,  exhibition,  and  sale  during  the  war  of  the 
Rebellion. 


NOTES. 


215 


BURIAL    TEEPEE. 

89  "The  Ab-sar-a-ka  chieftain  most  bravely  fighting  fell. 

The  famous  Long-Horse,  chief  of  the  Absaraka,  or  Crow,  nation  of 
Indians,  who  fell  and  was  entombed  in  a  magnificent  war-teepee,  as 
portrayed  in  the  poem,  which  was  written  upon  my  visit  to  his  burial 
teepee  and  of  the  place  of  conflict  soon  after  his  death  in  1875. 


BOLD  TRAPPER  OF  THE  CAMP-FIRE. 

90  "  Bold  trapper  of  the  camp-fire." 

Jones  Whitney,  a  youthful  trapper  comrade  along  the  great  lakes 
and  in  the  wilds  of  Northwestern  Ohio. 

He  there  married,  and  soon  after  removed  with  his  family  to  the 
Walla- Walla  Valley  in  Oregon.  There,  by  the  assistance  of  a  faithful 
Indian  friend,  he  escaped  one  of  the  border  massacres,  and  in  a  long 
and  perilous  journey,  with  the  snowy  crest  of  Mount  Hood  as  a  guide 
by  day,  and  the  stars  by 'night,  ultimately  reached  the  Dalles  of  the 
Columbia  in  safety,  where  he  settled,  prospered,  and,  after  repaying 
in  the  East  my  visit  of  1870,  died,  a  wealthy  and  esteemed  Christian 
citizen. 

The  ties  of  early  association  in  jointly  sharing  the  perils  of  border- 
life  by  day  and  the  weary  watch  by  night  are  dearer  and  as  enduring 
as  those  blood  akin ;  nor  will  any  of  the  bent,  bald,  or  grizzled  rem 
nant  of  the  early  path-finders  fail  to  understand,  and  perchance  ap 
preciate,  this  border  mode  of  expressing  regret  for  comrades  gone, 
or  the  blending  of  trails  and  camp-fires  in  some  mountain  glen  or 
sheltered  park  of  that  hoped-for  better  land. 


THE    WARRIOR'S    DIRGE. 

91  "  Gone,  brave  brother,  gone  from  the  suffering  and  strife." 

Brevet  Colonel  Thomas  B.  Weir,  captain  of  the  Seventh  Regiment 
of  United  States  Cavalry,  died  suddenly  of  congestion  of  the  brain 


216  NOTES. 


it  his  recruiting  station  in  New  York  City  soon  after  his  return  from 
*\e  disastrous  campaign  of  the  Little  Big-horn  in  1876. 


CYPRESS     SHADOWS. 

"  Where  the  long  reeds  quiver,  where  the  pines  make  moan." 
This  fitting  requiem  beneath  the  plaintive  moan  of  the  waving 
pine-tops  at  the  silent  burial,  without  religious  ceremony,  or  a  burial- 
casket  of  an  emigrant's  child  beside  a  malarial  bayou  in  the  sterile 
pine-knobs  of  Northeastern  Minnesota,  came  like  electric  flash  along 
nearly  forty  years  of  fading  reminiscences  of  kindred  scenes  in  the 
Calumet  Desert  at  the  head  of  Lake  Michigan.  Such  scenes  are, 
alas!  ever  too  frequent  among  the  poor  but  worthy  pioneers  of  civil 
ization,  who  brave  the  diseases  and  the  dangers  of  the  border  hopeful 
of  a  quiet  home  in  their  old  age  and  of  benefiting  the  children. 


I'VE    TRAILED    THE    PROUD    COLUMBIA. 

93  "  And  here  I  pause  and  ponder  at  trace  of  friend  of  old." 
William  Turnage,  in  all  those  regions  only  known  by  his  sobriquet, 
"Shirt-collar  Bill,"  the  famous  scout,  guide,  and  packer,  with  whom 
I  visited  the  Steptoe  and  other  battle-fields  of  the  great  Oregon  Indian 
war  of  1856;  and  we  by  ourselves  encamped  a  night  beneath  the 
basaltic  walls  of  the  deeply-eroded  canon  of  the  Peluse,  between  its 
mouth  at  Snake  River  and  its  sacred  falls,  seven  miles  above,  in  1870. 
We  slept  in  our  blankets  only,  among  the  bleaching  bones  of  the 
numerous  pinto  and  cayuse  horses,  which  died  of  their  wounds,  of 
starvation,  or  were  slain  for  food  by  the  remnant  of  the  whites,  while 
here  for  many  weeks  hemmed  in  by  the  victorious  Indians  after  the 
Steptoe  defeat,  and  where,  in  the  days  of  close  fighting  with  knife, 
hatchet,  and  bows  and  arrows,  or  at  best  mainly  with  short-range, 
mu/xJe-loading,  flint-lock  guns,  which,  from  the  liability  of  the 


NOTES,  217 

powder  to  flash  in  the  pan,  were  never  a  reliable  gun  at  vertical 
firing,  the  incidents  are  said  to  have  occurred  substantially  as  re 
lated  in  the  poem. 


HO,   WAKEN! 

•*  "  Ho,  waken,  you  dwellers  in  chambers  of  clay, 

Arise  from  your  slumbers  and  welcome  the  day  !" 

These  lines  are  an  imaginary  address  to  a  group  of  skeletons  which 
I  found  in  a  walled-up  timber-  and  cement- covered  vault  in  the  base 
of  a  great  earth-mound  on  the  commanding  bluff  above  East  Du- 
buque,  Illinois,  during  my  past  season's  ethnological  researches  in 
the  Mississippi  Valley.  The  oak-timber  ceiling  was  so  decayed  as  to 
have  fallen  in,  but  the  cement  or  dried-mortar  roof  was  still  intact, 
and  the  skeletons  of  six  adult  persons,  four  children,  and  one  infant, 
the  latter  in  its  mother's  fleshless  arms,  were  mouldering  from  a  sit 
ting  posture  in  a  circle  around  sea-shell  dishes,  weapons,  and  uten 
sils  of  stone,  fragments  of  pottery,  and  rude  shell-ornaments. 

96  "  And  whose  is  this  dust  in  these  chambers  beside?" 

Each  end  of  the  vault  was  partially  walled  off,  and  contained  sev 
eral  bushels  of  very  fine  cremated  human  dust,  brought  and  thus 
carefully  garnered  from  some  unknown  and  perhaps  distant  locality ; 
although  several  of  this  group  of  mounds  which  I  opened  in  1857, 
and  others  near  Prairie  du  Chien,  Wisconsin,  during  the  past  season, 
were  unmistakably  cremation-mounds  above  the  skeletons  of  persons 
carefully  buried  in  the  earth  beneath  them. 

96  "  And  why  are  these  ramparts  so  lofty  and  long 

Widespread  o'er  the  plains  where  the  antelope  throng  ?" 

This  group  of  mounds  is  near  the  southern  border  of  the  famous 

Effigy  mounds  of  Wisconsin,  the  beasts,  birds,  and  reptiles  of  which, 

including  the  so-called  Elephant  Mound,  one  hundred  and  forty-six 

feet  in  length,  are  along  the  Mississippi  uniformly  headed  southward. 

K  19 


218  NOTES. 


NORTHERN    CLIME. 

87  "  Faint  I  recall,  through  mists  of  time." 

This  poem  is  intended  less  as  the  description  of  any  one  trip  to  the 
pathless  Northwest  than  of  the  usual  incidents  attending  all  of  them, 
as  well  as  the  tragic  fate  of  the  participators,  not  one  of  whom  that 
ascended  the  Saskatchewan,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  is  now  living.  In 
fact,  the  sole  survivor  of  those  early  trapper  and  trader  friends,  even 
those  who  did  not  cross  the  British  line  with  the  Hudson  Bay  traders, 
is  the  energetic,  ever  temperate,  moral,  honorable,  and  now  esteemed 
and  honored  ex-State-senator  D.  W.  H.  Howard,  now  of  Wauseon, 
Fulton  County,  Ohio,  to  whom  none  of  the  too  often  just  denuncia 
tions  of  the  border  trader  in  any  sense  apply. 


DE    SO  TO. 

°8  "  Damp  was  the  day  and  dreary,  the  night  was  dark  and  cold ; 
Worn  were  my  limbs  and  weary,  my  refuge  hovel  old." 

The  incidents  in  these  lines  truthfully-portrayed  in  connection 
with  the  production  of  this  historical  poem  were  thus  preceded  and 
followed.  Of  my  ethnological  work  during  the  past  season  were  re 
searches  of  the  famous  flat-topped  mounds,  earthwork  enclosures, 
and  unique  pottery-filled  cemeteries  of  a  supposed  prehistoric  people 
along  the  Southern  bayous,  lakes,  and  rivers.  Commingled  with 
these,  from  the  foot-hills  of  the  Ozark  Mountains  in  Missouri  and 
Arkansas,  at  various  places  along  the  Black,  White,  and  notably  the 
St.  Francis  Rivers  below  the  "sunk  lands"  of  the  great  earthquake 
of  1811  and  '12,  as  well  as  from  Memphis  to  Napoleon  along  the  Mis 
sissippi,  and  much  of  the  country  visited  beyond  it,  are  detached  earth 
works,  popularly  believed  to  be  the  work  of  De  Soto  and  his  followers 
during  their  years  of  wanderings  in  these  regions  nearly  three  centuries 
and  a  half  ago.  One  of  these  is  near  Helena,  another  where  it  is  claimed 
their  brigantines  were  built,  at  Old  Town,  thirty-five  miles  (by  the 
river)  below  in  Arkansas,  and  another  in  Mississippi,  nearly  opposite 
the  latter,  but  somewhat  back  from  the  river,  near  the  fine  residence 


NOTES.  219 

and  hospitable  home  of  the  brothers  J.  and  J.  G.  Carson,  which  they 
have  constructed  upon  the  circular  acre  of  flat  summit  to  an  ancient 
mound  fully  twenty  feet  high.  While  engaged  in  researches  of  this 
and  similar  mounds  adjacent,  I  spent  the  day  and  night  preceding, 
and  the  forenoon  of  Christmas,  1882,  there  finding  and  partially 
perusing  a  brief  narrative  of  De  Solo's  wanderings  and  death,  being 
the  first  connected  record  of  them  which  I  had  ever  seen.  Christmas 
afternoon  I  rode  six  miles  to  Frier's  Point,  crossed  the  skiff-ferry  to 
Westover,  and  finding  no  better  mode  that  night,  in  a  rude  dug-out 
mule-trough  as  a  canoe,  aided  by  a  colored  man,  and  my  spade  as  a 
paddle,  descended  the  Mississippi  ten  miles,  and  obtained  such  board 
and  lodging  as  I  could  at  Old  Town,  now  reduced  to  a  residence 
and  a  rum-hole,  such  as  they  are. 

Although  there  are  some  fine  ranches  along  the  shores  of  Long  and 
Old  Town  Lakes,  which  naturally  outlet  here,  I  was  unable  during  the 
holidays  to  obtain  help  in  the  severe  but  successful  labor  of  opening 
ancient  mounds  and  earthworks,  and  securing  human  skeletons, 
unique  pottery,  and  other  interesting  relics.  With  health  seriously 
impaired  by  a  direct  transfer  from  years  of  duty  in  the  cool,  bracing 
Northern  air  at  the  fountain-heads  of  this  mighty  river  to  the  malarious 
fogs  of  the  Southern  cypress-swamps  and  bayous  fully  four  thousand 
miles  adown  it,  and  unable  to  obtain  a  guide  or  horse,  I  returned 
from  an  arduous  day's  effort  in  measuring  and  sketching  some  large 
and  interesting  ruins  in  the  cane-brakes  six  miles  towards  Modock, 
wet,  weary,  and  seriously  ill.  There,  in  my  rude  depository  of  relics, 
without  fire,  light,  or  window,  with  strangely  blended  thoughts  of 
my  cheerful  distant  home,  of  the  ancient  occupants  of  the  place,  the 
embarkation  of  Moscoso's  remnant  of  De  Soto's  band,  and  the  fate 
of  both,  I  sought  unrefreshing  slumbers,  from  which  I  was  startled 
by  the  brief  tumult  of  a  descending  steamer  and  the  howling  of  a  tran 
sient  winter's  storm.  Shivering  in  the  dreary  dawn,  this  record  of  my 
night's  vision  was  commenced,  continued  at  intervals  in  the  measure 
ments  of  the  works  attributed  to  Moscoso  during  that  day,  and  con 
cluded  upon  that  following,  while  in  an  old  abandoned  cabin  upon  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river  awaiting  a  steamer,  and  slightly  reviewed  in 
the  pleasant  cabin  of  the  "  Golden  Crown"  Ohio  boat  while  ascending 
to  Helena.  It  was  then  laid  aside  during  my  subsequent  researches 
along  the  Yazoo  and  Sunflower  Rivers,  and  now  revised,  and,  to 
gether  with  this  note  of  explanation,  added  to  my  volume  of  Legends 


22o  NOTES. 

now  in  press,  as  the  sole  contribution  from  a  region  pre-eminent  in 
those  which  are  thrilling,  hopeful  the  poem  is  not  too  deeply  tinted  by 
the  sombre  shadows  surrounding  its  couch  of  birth. 

It  is  also  earnestly  hoped  that  no  language  of  this  poem  will  be 
thought  to  wantonly  assail  any  nationality  or  religion.  Surely  the  in 
part  lineal  descendant  of  the  in  many  respects  justly  lauded  "  Pil 
grims  of  Plymouth  Rock,"  who  frankly  condemns  their  witch-burning, 
Quaker-expelling,  and  kindred  acts  of  bigotry,  intolerance,  and  per 
secution  towards  those  of  their  own  race  in  the  very  refuge  to  which 
they  fled  to  escape  it  themselves,  may  be  pardoned  for  recalling  his 
torical  facts  and  wholesale  pillage  or  slaughter  of  alien  pagans  in 
distant  lands, — acts  which  were  approved,  lauded,  and  rewarded  by 
prince  and  pontiff  in  the  age  of  the  actors,  when  professed  religion 
was,  alas !  too  often  propagated  alike  beneath  the  Crescent  and  the 
Cross,  with  the  Bible  for  a  shield  to  the  breast  of  one  party,  and 
potent  arguments  from  the  battle-axe,  the  scimiter,  or  the  sabre  to 
that  of  the  other. 

W  "  Amid  the  holly  shadows,  upon  the  gory  plain, 

Uncoffined  sleep  and  moulder  two  hundred  sons  of  Spain." 

As  the  charming  impression  derived  from  a  view  of  the  deep-green 
foliage  of  a  grove  of  moaning  pines,  adown  a  mountain  slope,  along 
a  meandering  stream,  or  upon  a  landscape  of  wintry  snow,  even  so 
is  the  thrilling  effect  of  a  view  of  the  glistening  green  leaves  and 
brilliant  red  clusters  of  the  low-branching  holly,  fringing  the  sluggish 
bayous,  bordering  the  sombre-hued,  moss-draped  gigantic  forests  or 
the  boundless  savannas  of  the  sunny  South,  while  these  evergreens 
are  there  as  beautiful  and  as  prized  in  the  towns  of  the  living  or  the 
cemeteries  of  the  dead  as  are  the  matchless  green  and  outline  of  the 
fragrant  balsam  in  those  of  the  frozen  North.  Hence  the  appropriate 
ness  of  the  holly-grove  upon  the  slaughter-field  of  Mau-il-la,  which 
was  alike  one  of  the  most  wanton  and  merciless  slaughters  of  the 
innocent  natives,  and  also  terrible  and  far-reaching  retributions  upon 
the  white  invaders,  of  the  long  catalogue  of  the  Indian  battles  of  our 
country.  The  narrative  shows  that  De  Soto  entered  a  thriving  forti 
fied  town,  with  the  chieftain  a  captive,  and  a  long  retinue  of  slaves 
loaded  with  nearly  all  of  their  ammunition,  spare  arms,  camp  equip 
age,  and  countless  valuable  pearls  and  other  ornaments  taken  from 
the  living  or  plundered  from  the  graves  of  the  dead,  and  that  they 


NOTES.  221 

left  it  a  smouldering  funeral  pyre,  alike  of  the  two  thousand  five  hun 
dred  defenders,  and  nearly  all  of  their  slaves,  ammunition,  camp  outfit, 
and  plunder,  more  than  one-third  of  their  number  dead,  and  the  most 
of  the  remainder  wounded  around  it.  So  galling  were  his  losses  that 
De  Soto,  rather  than  continue  his  march  one  hundred  miles  to  where 
he  knew  there  were  vessels  and  supplies  awaiting  him  at  (probably) 
Mobile,  but  where  his  reverses  in  fortune  would  also  become  known 
to  the  world,  chose  to  conceal  this  knowledge  from  his  followers; 
and  turning  his  back  upon  all  succor,  without  ammunition  or  supplies, 
followed  a  wandering  life  of  rapine  to  a  remorseful  death  and  un- 
coffmed  grave  at  a  now  unknown  locality  beneath  the  turbid  waters 
of  the  mighty  river  which  he  discovered.  After  nearly  a  year  of 
wandering  through  Arkansas  and  adjacent  regions,  months  of  brigan- 
tine-building  and  terrible  fighting  and  suffering,  a  remnant  of  the 
band  under  Moscoso  reached  a  Spanish  colony  in  Mexico,  nearly 
five  years  after  their  landing  in  Florida,  which  was  May  30,  1539. 

Although  many  statements  in  the  narrative  of  these  wanderers 
seem  too  thrilling  to  be  true,  yet  in  my  researches  of  ancient  remains 
in  those  regions  I  found  much  to  sustain  and  little  to  disprove  their 
accounts,  that  without  regard  to  who  constructed  the  flat-topped 
mounds,  the  natives  of  De  Soto's  time  certainly  occupied  them  in 
the  midst  of  hamlets  of  plaster-walled  and  thatch-roofed  residences, 
protected  by  strong  palisades  and  surrounded  by  extensive  cornfields 
and  gardens ;  and  no  statements  of  the  poem  are  unsustained  by  the 
narrative  of  the  first  white  explorers  of  any  portion  of  the  mighty 
Mississippi  Valley. 


10* 


GLOSSARY.* 


DEFINITION    OF    INDIAN    WORDS    AND    PROVIN 
CIALISMS   USED   BY   THE  AUTHOR   IN   THE 
PRECEDING  VOLUME   OF   LEGENDS. 

A. 

Ab'sar'a-ka  (Dakota). — Crow  Indians.     (See  Crow.} 

A-gimf  (O-jib-wa). — Snow-shoe. 

An-i-mefki  (O-jib-wa). — Thunder. 

A-ras'trea  (Chilian). — A  rude  mill  propelled  by  mule-  or  water- 
power,  for  grinding  gold  with  boulders. 

A-rick'a-reef  (Pani).  A  tribe  of  Indians  found  along  the  Missouri 
River.  The  name  is  frequently  abbreviated  to  Rick-a-ree,  and 
sometimes  even  Ree.  (See  those  names.) 

As-sin  (Chippewa). — Stone. 

A-ivasf  sa-da' ki  (Chippewa). — Far  beyond  the  mountains. 

B. 

Bad-lands. — Elevated,  terribly   eroded,  and    broken,  sterile    alkali 

plains  or  terraces. 
Ban-ach. — From  the  Indian  name  Ban-nack  (Pa-nai-tse),  a  tribe  of 

Indians  who  formerly  frequented  the  Yellowstone  National  Park, 

from  the  west. 


*  This  glossary  is  not  published  as  a  classical,  but  as  a  practical  and 
necessary  accompaniment  of  this  work  of  tales  and  legends,  so  largely 
abounding  in  Indian  or  border  words,  names,  and  phrases,  and  is  be 
lieved  to  be  at  least  as  full  and  accurate  as  any  of  the  kind  of  which  I 
have  a  knowledge,  or  as  is  essential  for  a  proper  understanding  of  the 
incidents  related  in  the  work. 

223 


224  GLOSSARY. 

Bed-rock. — A  miner's  phrase  for  the  real  facts  of  a  case  or  foundation 
of  anything,  from  the  gold  being  usually  found  upon  the  bed 
rock  in  placer-mining. 

Big-Hole. — A  very  large,  open,  and  elevated  park  or  valley  and  pass 
in  the  very  crest  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  which  nearly  encircle 
it,  upon  the  head  of  the  Big- Hole  branch  of  the  Jefferson  Fork 
of  the  Missouri  River,  near  the  Deer-Lodge,  in  Montana. 
Big-horn.— The  name  of  the  larger  variety  of  the  wild  mountain- 
sheep.  Thus  called  from  the  enormous  symmetrical  horns  of  the 
adult  males.  The  Big-horn  Mountains,  as  well  as  the  river  of  that 
name,  with  its  various  Horn  branches,  derive  their  names  from 
the  immense  number  of  these  animals  frequenting  those  regions. 
Bi'son — The  fleet  and  wary,  dark,  curly-haired  buffalo  of  the  moun 
tain  parks. 

Black-Feet. — An  Indian  nation  embracing  the  Black-Feet,  Blood,  and 
Pigan  tribes  ;  formerly  the  most  powerful,  ferocious,  and  dreaded 
nation  infesting  the  head-waters  of  the  Columbia,  Missouri,  and 
Yellowstone  Rivers. 

Bloody-Knife.— A  famous  Ree  or  a  Sioux  Mandan  warrior  and  guide 
for  the  whites.  He  was  killed  with  Charley  Reynolds  in  Reno's 
valley  fight  upon  the  day  of  the  Custer  massacre. 
Bozeman. — A  noted  guide  and  rival  of  Bridger's  as  a  mountaineer, 
who  was  killed  by  the  Indians  upon  the  Yellowstone.  (See 
note  51.) 

Brid'ger,  James. — The  most  famous  guide  of  the  mountains  and  great 
plains  of  the  past  generation,  and  from  whom  Bridger's  Fort, 
Pass,  Lake,  and  several  streams  derive  their  names. 
grule.—^  powerful  and  ferocious  tribe  of  the  Sioux  or  Dakota  nation, 

frequenting  the  Black  Hills. 

Buck'eye.— Originally  the  name  of  the  American  horse-chestnut 
variety  of  timber,  from  the  abundance  of  which,  in  Ohio,  it 
became  the  provincialism  or  sobriquet  of  the  State  and  its  in 
habitants. 

Buffalo. — The  gregarious  shaggy  bison  of  the  great  plains.  For 
convenience  in  versification  these  names  are  used  interchangeably 
in  this  work. 

Bull-boat.— A  circular,  flat-bottomed  boat  used  upon  the  sand-bar 
rivers  of  the  treeless  great  plains,  usually  made  of  one,  but  some 
times  of  two,  green  buffalo-bull  hides.  (See  note  49.) 


GLOSSARY.  22$ 

Butte  (Pigeon-French). — A  conical  hill-remnant  of  erosion  upon 
the  great  plains  and  terraced  bluffs  of  its  rivers  and  foot-hills  of 
the  mountains.  When  capped  by  a  horizontal  layer  of  harder 
rock  they  are  called  table-buttes.. 

C. 

Cache  (cash,  French). — Hiding-place, — i.e.,  the  peculiar  excavations 
in  dry  bluffs  for  the  goods,  trinkets,  powder,  and  furs  of  the  old 
traders,  and  now  a  cant  word  for  hiding  anything.  (See  note  78.) 
Cac'tus. — A  variety  of  this  well-known  thorny  plant,  called  the 
prickly-pear,  is  the  pest  of  the  plains,  as  a  pilgrim  in  attempting 
to  crawl  for  a  shot  at  a  buffalo  or  an  antelope  will  soon  learn 
and  long  remember. 

Cal'u-met'  (O-jib-way). — The  sacred  Indian  pipe  of  peace.  (See 
note  I.) 

Calfu-metf  Qiiarry. — Sacred  quarry,  in  Pipestone  County,  Minne 
sota,  near  the  border  of  Dakota. 

Cam' ass  (Nootka)  of  the  Chi-nook  jargon,  named  La/ka-mas/  for 
the  edible-bulb-root  of  a  plant  growing  in  fertile  meadows  in 
the  Columbia  River  regions,  and  hence  the  numerous  camass- 
meadows  and  streams. 

Ca-noe' . — Properly  an  O-jib-way  Indian  boat,  made  by  hollowing  out 
a  log,  or  by  covering  a  light  frame-work  of  cedar  with  birch- 
bark,  but  now  also  applied  to  an  imitation  of  the  latter  covered 
with  oiled  canvas. 

CaHon  (Spanish). — A  deep,  narrow,  usually  eroded,  and  often  impas 
sable  mountain  water-way. 

Cay-ou'ta  (ky-o'ta,  Spanish). — Properly  the  small  and  sneaking  but 
voracious  prairie-wolf,  but  the  name  is  frequently  applied  to  any 
variety  of  this  animal. 

Chet-ivootf  (Chi-nook  jargon). — Bear. 

Chi-nook'  (Chi-nook  jargon). — A  general  name  for  the  Nez-Perce, 
Flat'head,  Wal'la-wal'la,  U/ma-til/la,  and  other  cluck  and 
whistling  Indians  of  the  Columbia,  as  well  as  their  peculiar 
jargon. 

Chip' 'pe-way'  (Indian  tribe). — See  O-jib-wa. 

Copper  race. — Red  men,  or  the  Indian  aborigines  of  the  most  of 
North  America. 

Counts,  a  coo. — A  provincialism  for  the  French  word  coup,  for  a 
P 


226  GLOSSARY. 

stroke,  blow,  or  notch,  and  in  border  parlance  literally  signifies 
adding  a  coup  or  coo-notch  upon  his  tally-stick  or  gun-barrel  list 
of  human  scalps,  each  of  which  counts  equally ;  for  the  spouting 
heart's-blood  of  an  innocent  maiden  or  helpless  infant  will 
christen  as  many  warriors  as  that  of  the  bravest  chieftain.  The 
number  of  those  entitled  to  become  warriors  or  add  a  coo  there 
for  being  from  three  to  five  of  the  first  who  toucji  the  corpse,  in" 
addition  to  the  one  who  secures  the  scalp,  none  of  whom  may 
perchance  be  the  actual  slayer. 

Crow. — An  Indian  nation  consisting  of  the  mountain  and  river  tribes, 
the  crafty  occupants  of  the  Yellowstone  and  Big-horn  regions. 
(See  Ab-sar-a-ka.*) 

D. 

Da-ko'ta. — The  Indian  name  for  the  Sioux  confederation  of  tribes, 
the  most  numerous  and  powerful  of  all  of  our  aboriginal  nations. 
Their  name  in  the  sign-language  is  represented  by  drawing  the 
right  hand  from  left  to  right  across  the  throat ;  literally,  cut 
throat.  '(See  Sioux.} 

Dal'les. A  peculiar  waterfall,  combining  the  direct  leap  of  the  cata 
ract,  the  skipping  of  the  saut,  or  leaping  rapids,  and  notably  a 
broken  line  of  falls  sideways,  often  fronting  each  other,  caused 
by  the  dislodgment  of  basaltic  columns  or  other  jointed  bed 
rocks,  as  at  the  dalles  of  the  Columbia  River.  The  name  is  not 
found  in  dictionaries,  and  is  of  doubtful  origin,  perhaps  from 
the  word  dally,  or  delay  in  sport,  which  is  very  expressive  of 
their  appearance. 

Deer-bleat. — A  Chippewa  Indian  wooden  tube,  with  a  copper  or 
brass  tongue,  used  for  calling  the  doe  to  her  fawn,  by  imitating 
its  cries  when  hidden,  at  the  period  when  its  tracks  leave  no 
scent. 

s. The  most  degraded  aborigines  of  the  Humboldt  and  other 

alkaline  deserts;  so  called  from  their  habits  of  digging  for  the 
roots  of  plants,  as  well  as  for  snails  and  lizards,  upon  which,  or 
crickets  and  grasshoppers,  they  mainly  subsist. 

Dog-soldier. The    adult    Indian   males  who    have   not   counted   a 

"  coup"  at  the  scalp-dance  to  christen  them  as  warriors. 

Du-luthf. A  famous  French  missionary,  one  of  the  first  to  visit  the 

great  lakes  and  Upper  Mississippi  River  regions. 


GLOSSARY.  227 


E. 

Earth-lodge. — The  famous  circular  Mandan  lodge  or  dwelling.  (See 
note  47.) 

F. 

Flat-head. — A  tribe  of  Chinook  Indians  of  the  Bitter-root,  Jacho, 
and  other  valleys  of  the  Upper  Columbia  River.  The  name  is 
derived  from  the  ancient  (now  abandoned)  custom  of  pressing 
the  heads  of  their  infants  from  front  to  rear,  in  the  clamp-like 
head-gear  of  their  hanging  cradles,  and  is  expressed  in  the  sign- 
language  by  patting  the  upper  part  of  the  forehead  or  even  top 
of  the  head, — i.e.,  Flat-head. 

Fossil  forests,  or  primeval  forests  fossilized;  literally  true.  (See  note 
S3-) 

G. 

Gey'ser  (Icelandic,  geysa,  to  boil).  —  Spouting  or  spurting  hot 
springs  of  several  varieties,  all  of  which  are  found  in  surpassing 
numbers,  size,  and  beauty  in  the  Wonder-Land,  or  Yellowstone 
National  Park. 

Goat. — The  white  or  long-haired,  web-footed  wild  sheep  of  the  snowy 
mountain  regions  of  Idaho  and  Montana  Territories,  and  adjacent 
portions  of  the  British  possessions.  (See  note  7.) 

Goblin-Land. — See  Hoo-doo  •  also  note  27. 

Griz'-zly. — With  the  possible  exception  of  the  white  polar  bear,  the 
largest  and  most  ferocious  variety  of  the  species.  The  name  is 
from  the  color  and  texture  of  the  outer  coating  of  their  hair. 

H. 

Ha'lo. — Properly,  a  circle  round  the  sun  or  moon ;  but  in  this  work, 
as  upon  the  border,  the  name  signifies  the  areola  around  the 
column  of  hot  water  from  the  spouting  geyser,  or  the  inimitably 
beautiful  oscillating  rainbows  in  the  mist-cloud  above  them,  or 
of  cataracts. 

He'-kha-ka'  (Da-ko-ta). — The  antlered  or  male  elk. 

Hoo'doo. — A  mountain  and  region  of  rocky  goblin-forms  near  the 
Wonder-Land.  (Sec  note  30.) 

How'-hoiv'. — Jargon;   corruption  of  the  salutation  "How  are  you?" 


228  GLOSSARY. 


I. 

Il'la-hif  (Chinook  jargon).— Country  (my). 

J-sanf  (E-s6n,  Santee).— Knife. 

1-san  (Tan' ka ;  E-s6n,  Ton'ka).— Big-Knives;  Americans. 

Isk' ko-te-wa' bo  (Chippewa). — Whiskey. 

K. 

Ka'  (Chippewa  or  O-jib-wa). — No. 

Ka'ka%v  (Chinook  jargon).— Crow  or  raven. 

Kam'ook  (Chinook  jargon). — Dog. 

Ke'new  (O-jib-wa). — War-Eagle. 

Ki'ji  (ke'je,  O-jib-wa).— Perfect. 

Ki'ji-Man-i'tou  (ke-je-Man-e-tou).— Perfect  spirit;  good  God. 

Kin'-ne-ko-nick'. — A  plant  used  as  a  substitute  for  tobacco. 

Kitch-i-gamfi  (O-jib-wa).— Great  water;  lake;  Lake  Superior. 

Kitch'i-mo'ko-man'  (O-jib-wa).— Big-Knife;  American. 

Ko-kosh'  (O-jib-wa). — Swine  or  their  flesh;  pork. 

L. 

La'ka-mas'  (Chinook  jargon).— See  Cam-ass. 

Lake  Pep'in.—&  broad,  placid  expansion  of  the  Mississippi  River  in 
Southern  Minnesota. 

Lar'a-mie.—K  fort  upon  the  north  fork  of  the  Platte  River,  long  a 
famous  outfitting  point  for  gold-seeking  pilgrims.  Also  the 
name  of  a  town,  county,  river,  and  a  very  extensive  and  beautiful 
but  elevated  park  called  Plains,  in  Wyoming  Territory. 

Leaping  Rock.—^  famous  tottering  vertical  fragment  of  the  wall- 
rock  of  the  Calumet  Cliffs. 

Li'on—lte  mountain-lion,  so  called.  A  very  large  and  ferocious 
variety  of  the  panther,  similar  to  the  Mexican  cougar,  whose 
midnight  screams  startle  like  the  Indian  war-whoop. 

Little-horn.—  Properly,  a  western  branch  of  the  Little  Big-horn  River, 
but  formerly  applied  to  the  entire  branch,  now  called  Custer 
River,  upon  the  coteau  bluffs  of  which  he  met  his  fate. 

Looking- Glass.— The  ablest  of  the  Nez-Perces  chiefs,  who  aided 
Chief  Joseph  throughout  his  matchless  retreat,  and  fell  in  the 
coula- trenches  of  his  last  battle  at  the  Woody  Mountain,  near 
the  British  line. 


G/.OSSJRY.  229 

Loflo-lof  (lueMa-loo,  Chinook  jargon). — Conqueror. 

Long-Knife. — White  man,  so  called  by  the  Indians  from  the  swords 
of  the  military  officers. 

Loping-steeJs. — Pintos,  bronchos,  cay-ouse,  and  mustang,  half  or 
wholly  wild  horses  of  the  West,  the  natural  and  habitual  gait  of 
nearly  all  of  which  is  a  lope,  or  long,  swinging,  graceful  canter, 
seldom  equalled  by  the  larger  but  less  sure-footed  and  hardy 
blooded  horses  of  the  East. 

Lovely  River. — The  Yellowstone,  between  its  lake  and  Great  Falls; 
a  peculiarly  appropriate  name. 

M. 

Maiden's  Leap. — Rocky  cliffs  upon  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Pepin, 

famous  in  Indian  legends.     (See  note  15.) 
Mak-wa'  (Chippewa). — Bear. 

Man-dan'.— K  famous  tribe  of  village  Indians.     (See  note  47.) 
Man'i-tou'.—'Yhus  Anglicized  from  the  O-jib-wa.     Man-i-to,  mys 
tery,  or  mysterious  spirit;   God;   and  in  these  legends  is  by  po 
etical  license  for  symphony  pronounced  Man-ee'ta. 
Man'o-nim'  (O-jib-wa  or  Chippewa).— Wild  rice. 
Mar-quette'.—&\\.  early  daring  but  devout  missionary  and  explorer, 
from  whom  several  towns  and  streams  of  Michigan  derive  their 
names. 

Mtn'ne-ha'ka.— Laughing- Water.       Name    of    a    lovely   waterfall 
near  St.  Paul,  and  also  of  the  heroine  of  Longfellow's  "  Hia 
watha,"  as  well  as  of  the  Maiden's  Leap  at  Lake  Pepin,  in  the 
legend  of  "  The  Calumet  of  the  Coteau."     (See  note  15.) 
Min'ne-ke'-wa  (Santee). — Water-god. 
Min'nc-o'la.—  Legendary  lover  of  Minnehaha. 
Min'ne-o'pa.—k.  famous  legendary  warrior  of  the  Coteau  Indians. 
Minfne-tan'ka.—W\gnHy  river;    the   Mississippi.     Also   a  lake  in 

Minnesota. 

Min'ne-wa-kan  (water-god).— Sometimes  applied  to  a  steamboat. 
Min'ne-wa'wa  (Longfellow).— Pleasant  sounds,  as  of  the  summer 

breeze  and  the  leaves  of  the  grove  upon  the  parched  plains. 
Min'ni  (Da-ko-ta).— Water. 
Mo'ka-manf  (Chippewa).— Knife. 
Mos'mos  (Chinook  jargon).— Buffalo. 
Mountain-cat.— The  lynx,  or  largest  variety  of  the  short-tailed  wild- 


2^o  GLOSSARY. 

cat,  being  nearly  as  large  and  more  ferocious  than  the  catamount 
or  panther. 

Mountain- Gate. — The  last  canon  upon  the  Missouri,  Yellowstone, 
and  other  rivers,  through  which  they  emerge  from  the  snowy 
mountains  to  the  relatively  open  valleys  or  plains. 

Mus'tang. — The  small  loping  horse  of  Texas  and  the  great  plains, 
usually  half  and  often  fully  wild. 

Mys'tic  Lake  "  of  Wonder-Land,"  as  distinct  from  a  lovely  mountain- 
lake  near  Bozeman,  Montana. 

My s' tic  River. — The  Yellowstone,  the  most  of  which,  as  well  as  its 
lake,  were  long  only  vaguely  known  from  legends  of  the  Indians 
or  tales  of  the  roving  trappers  of  those  regions. 

N. 

Na'tion. — A  primitive  people,  consisting  of  more  than  one  tribe,  often 
of  several  or  many,  usually,  though  not  always,  confederate. 

Nez-Per'cc  (French). — Pierced  nose.  A  famous  nation  of  Chinook 
Indians. 

Ni-ba'  (Chippewa). — Water. 

O. 

Ob-sidfe-an  Cli/s. — Cliffs  of  natural  glass  fronting  Beaver  Lake  in 

the  Yellowstone  National  Park. 
O-de-o'na  (Chippewa). — Village. 
Og'i-maf  (Chippewa). — Chief. 
O-jib-iva. — A  powerful  tribe  of  Indians  of  the  Upper  Mississippi  and 

Upper  Lake  regions.     (See  Chippewa.} 
Os'a-ga'  (Chippewa). — Sauk  Indian. 
Os-su-a-ry. — Deposit  of  human  bones. 

P. 

Pale-face.—  White  man. 

Pam'pis.—-^  poetical  license  in  applying  the  name  to  the  prairies  of 

the  North  as  well  as  South  America. 
Pap-poose'  (O-jib-wa).—  Indian  child. 
Park. — A  relatively  broad,  elevated   mountain-girt  valley,  one  or 

more  of  which  are  found  upon  all  the  streams  of   the   Rocky 

Mountain  region. 


GLOSSARY.  231 

Pemfi-can. — Deer-,  elk-,  or  buffalo-meat  dried,  pounded,  and  mixed 
with  tallow,  marrow,  or  bear's  grease. 

Pilfgrims. — A  provincialism  or  border  name  for  inexperienced  miners, 
and,  in  a  broader  sense,  the  travelling  new-comers,  especially 
miners,  of  a  western  region. 

Pin' to  (Spanish). — Spotted.  The  famous  spotted  loping  war-horse 
of  the  Columbia  River  Indians. 

Plains,  Great. — The  elevated,  treeless  regions  between  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  the  prairies,  from  the  latter  of  which  they  greatly 
differ,  notably  in  their  short  tufts  of  buffalo  and  other  native 
grasses,  often  commingled  with  the  prickly-pear  and  the  sage 
brush. 

Pros-pect'er. — A  roving  exploring  miner. 

Q. 

Que'u-que'u  (Chinook  jargon). — Circle,  circle. 

R. 

Ranch. — Border  farm,  usually  very  extensive,  and  mainly  for  pas 
turage. 

Ree. — Indian  tribe.     (See  Rickaree.'] 

Red-Cloud. — A  famous  Sioux  chieftain  from  whom  the  war  at  the 
close  of  the  Rebellion  was  called,  as  he  was  the  acknowledged 
leader  of  the  hostile  Indians. 

Red  men. — North  American  Indians. 

Rick'a-ree'. — Indian  tribe.     (See  Arickaree.} 

.forcer.— Trappers,  traders,  prospecters,  and  other  wanderers  of  the 
border. 

S. 

Sa'cred  Quar'ry. — Calumet  Quarry.     (See  note  I.) 

Sals' 'se. — Mud  geysers. 

Sa'pa  (Da-ko-ta).— Black. 

Sas> 'ka-shawn' '. — Anglicized  name  for  the  River  of  the  Rapids  in 
British  America. 

Scalp' -dance. — As  the  name  signifies,  a  dance  over  the  scalps  of  fallen 
foes. 

Ska  (Da-ko-ta). — Red. 

Ska  (Da-ko-ta).— White. 

Sheep. — Wild  sheep  of  two  varieties.     (See  note  7.) 


232  GLOSSJA'Y. 

Sheep- Eat' ers. — The  poor,  timid,  and  originally  harmless  aborigines 
of  the  Wonder-Land,  so  called  from  their  habit  of  obtaining 
their  main  supplies  of  food  and  clothing  by  the  slaughter  of  these 
animals. 

Shun'ka  (Da-ko-ta).— Dog. 

Shun' ka-wa' kan  (San-tee). — Sacred  dog;  horse. 

Shun' tan' ka  (Da-ko-ta).— Big  dog;  horse. 

Shun-tan-ka-ti-pi.—  Horse-lodge;  big-doghouse;  barn. 

Shim-to- ke-cha. — The  other  dog ;  wolf. 

Si'oux'  (Se'ou',  Da-ko-ta). — Nation  of  Indians.     (See  note  5.) 

Si'-wash  (Chinook  jargon). — Male  Indian. 

Skoo'kum  (Chinook  jargon). — Brave. 

Sun'-dance. — The  courage-testing  dance  and  tortures  of  the  male 
Indian  at  the  age  of  puberty. 

T. 

Tan'ka  (ton-ka,  Da-ko-ta).— Large;  great. 

Tau-rine.— Chieftain ;  Sitting-Bull;  an  Un-ca-pap-pa  Sioux  chief 
tain,  leader  of  the  hostile  savages  at  the  Custer  massacre. 

Tee' pee. From  the  Dakota  ti-pi,  or  skin-lodge,  as  distinct  from  the 

Chippewa  mat  or  the  Mandan  earth-lodge.  It  is  the  to-tem 
war-lodge  of  the  Blackfeet  Indians,  but  the  name  is  often  used 
interchangeably  with  other  skin-lodges. 

Terrace. Remnants  of  eruption  or  erosion,  and  often  of  both, 

rising  in  long,  horizontal,  stair-like  lines  from  many  of  the 
mountain-lakes  and  rivers. 

Til'la-cume'  (Chinook  jargon). — Enemies. 

Ti'ions. — Tee/tons. 

To'tem. — Symbolic  Indian  name. 

U. 

Ute. An  Indian  nation  of  several  southern  tribes. 

W. 

Wa'h  (O-jib-wa). — An  exclamation  much  as  "there,"  "so  be  it." 
Wa-kan'  (wa-kon',  Dakota).— Mysterious  one. 
Wa-kan'da  (Kick-a-poo).— Mysterious  being;  God. 
Wa-kan' sche'cha.— Bad  mysterious  one ;  devil,  or  whiskey. 


GLOSSARY.  233 

Wa-kan'tan'ka. — Great  Wakan;  great  mysterious  one;  God  Al 
mighty. 

Wam'pum. — Strings  of  shell-beads. 

Wan  (Dakota). — One,  a  or  an. 

Wafpa-ha  (Dakota). — A  hat  or  cap. 

War-bon'net.—lhe  famous  ceremonial  head-dress  and  streaming 
pendant,  ornamented  with  war-eagle  quills. 

War-dance. — A  grand  dance  of  Indian  warriors  in  full  paint  and 
feathers  at  the  ceremonial  unearthing  of  the  hatchet  and  hurling 
it  at  the  totem  of  their  foes,  while  preparing  for  an  expedition 
against  them. 

War-Ea'gle. — So  called  from  the  parti-colored  quill-feathers  which 
are  the  favorite  ornament  of  the  war-bonnet  and  other  head-gear 
of  an  Indian  warrior ;  and  even  a  lone  quill  erect  in  the  scalp- 
lock  is  highly  valued. 

War-whoop. — The  piercing  scream  of  the  Indian  warriors  in  battle, 
which  is  often  modified  to  a  prolonged  vibrating  howl,  echoing 
with  awful  intensity  in  the  dark  pine-  and  cedar-fringed  gorges 
of  the  mountains,  and  once  heard  can  never  be  forgotten. 

Was'-sa-mo'win  (Chippewa). — Lightning. 

Wa-wa  (Chinook  jargon). — Call. 

Woolly-sheep. — The  white  wild  sheep  or  goat  of  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains. 

Won-der-Land. — The  Yellowstone  National  Park. 

Wi-chen-yan-na  (Dakota). — Girl. 

Wick'e-up'  (Sho-shone). — Brush-house.     (See  note  82.) 

Winf-i-ban  (O-jib-wa). — Gone. 

Wi'ta-wa'ta  (Da-ko-ta). — Ship  or  boat. 

Wiz'ard(  jargon). — An  Indian  medicine-man,  sorcerer,  or  magician. 

Y. 

Yanc'tona  or  Yancfto-a. — Northern  tribe  of  the  Sioux  nation  of 
Indians. 


20* 


"M"   •  •        <>    '"kH 

'.:. ;._.WHr^^_V [) 


YELLOWSTON1 

NATIONM 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE 
NATIONAL  PARK. 


INTRODUCTION. 

At  the  suggestion  of  some  prominent  and  practical  friends  who 
nave  visited  the  Yellowstone  National  Park,  or  who  propose  doing 
so,  I  add  a  map  thereof  and  brief  description  of  its  leading  points 
of  attraction,  together  with  illustrations  of  some  of  those  referred  to 
in  these  legends,  and  a  few  practical  suggestions  regarding  the  season, 
the  route,  and  the  cost  of  visiting  them.  The  map  is  a  duplicate  of 
that  in  my  report  of  1 88 1,  except  the  colors,  and  the  size,  which,  in 
reducing  to  accord  with  the  pages  of  this  work,  is  somewhat  small  for 
clearness ;  but  map,  directions,  and  suggestions  are  considered  at  least 
as  correct  and  practical  as  any  yet  published  regarding  the  Wonder- 
Land. 


PRELUDE. 

In  all  these  blooming  valleys,  along  each  crystal  stream, 
And  snow-encircled  lakelet,  where  quivering  halos  gleam, 
These  labyrinths  of  goblins,  and  spouting  geysers  grand, 
Unnumbered  are  the  marvels  throughout  the  Wonder-Land ; 
As  wintry  storms  build  snow-fields,  and  summer  breezes  thaw, 
All  nature  seems  in  contrast,  in  beauty,  size,  or  awe, 
Creation,  growth,  and  ruin,  the  universal  law  ! 


LOCATION   OF  THE   PARK. 

From  this  map,  in  connection  with  that  of  the  Land  Office  of  the 
United   States,  it  will   be   seen  that  the  Snake  River  fork  of  the 

235 


236  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 

Columbia,  and  Green  River  fork  of  the  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of 
California  (Pacific  waters),  and  nearly  all  the  other  great  rivers  of 
that  part  of  the  continent,  including  the  Jefferson,  Madison,  and  Gal- 
latin  forks,  and  the  Big-horn  and  other  branches  of  the  Missouri, 
Mississippi  (Atlantic  waters),  to  a  great  extent  radiate  from  spouting 
geysers  or  other  hot  springs  within  or  adjacent  to  the  great  National 
Park,  situated  mainly  in  Wyoming  Territory,  and  also  embracing 
portions  of  Idaho  and  Montana. 

This  wonderful  region  is  really  less  one  large  park  than  a  group 
of  smaller  ones,  partially  or  wholly  isolated,  upon  bcth  sides  of  the 
continental  divide,  which  is  much  lower  in  the  Park  than  the  nearly 
unbroken  surrounding  mountain  ranges.  Its  average  altitude  prob 
ably  exceeds  that  of  Yellowstone  Lake,  or  nearly  a  half-mile  higher 
than  Mount  Washington.  Its  few  yawning,  ever  difficult,  often  im 
passable  canon  approaches  along  foaming  torrents,  the  superstitious 
awe  inspired  by  the  hissing  springs,  sulphur-basins,  and  spouting 
geysers,  and  the  infrequent  visits  of  the  surrounding  pagan  Indians 
have  combined  to  singularly  delay  the  exploration  of  this  truly  mystic 
land. 

Although  Lewis  and  Clarke,  by  ascending  the  Jefferson  instead  of 
the  Madison  or  Gallatin  fork  of  the  Missouri  in  1805,  crossed  the 
Rocky  Mountain  divide  west  of  the  Park  without  its  discovery,  yet  it 
is  from  a  member  of  that  early  band  of  northwestern  explorers  that 
we  derive  our  first  knowledge  of  its  existence. 

Sergeant  Coulter,  after  his  honorable  discharge  from  this  expedi 
tion,  and  famous  gantlet-running  escape  from  the  ferocious  Blackfeet 
Indians,  accompanied  the  Sheep-Eaters  amid  the  spouting  geysers, 
fire-hole  basins,  and  other  marvels  of  these  regions,  and  ever  after 
his  return  to  Missouri  in  1810  gloried  in  describing  them;  yet  so 
little  credence  was  given  to  his  narrative  that  for  many  years,  even 
long  after  I  was  first  upon  the  Lower  Yellowstone,  Coulter's  Hell  was 
a  standing  camp-fire  jest  upon  now  well-known  realities.  But  John 
Coulter  was,  without  a  shade  of  doubt,  the  first  white  explorer  of  any 
portion  of  the  Yellowstone  National  Park. 

The  want  of  space  prevents  the  use  of  much  material  at  hand  re 
garding  the  wanderings  of  Henry,  Sublett,  Bonneville,  Bridger,  and 
many  other  renowned  trappers  and  Indian-fighters  of  those  regions, 
of  the  fruitless  United  States  exploring  expedition  of  Captain  Rey 
nolds  during  1859  and  1860  in  search  of  the  Park,  or  of  the  camp-fire 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK.  237 

legends  of  the  gold-seeking  pilgrims,  some  of  whom,  including  Cap 
tain  De  Lacy,  George  Huston,  G.  H.  Phelps,  and  Frederick  Bottler, 
unquestionably  visited  portions  of  the  Park  prior  to  1870,  though 
none  of  them  had  then  published  narratives. 

Having  myself,  long  before  the  Reynolds  expedition,  failed,  as  he 
did,  to  reach  the  Park  from  the  east,  early  in  June,  1870,  I  again 
sought,  after  many  years'  absence  from  those  regions,  to  reach  it  by 
ascending  the  Yellowstone  above  the  Gate  of  the  Mountains,  accom 
panied  by  Frederick  Bottler,  from  the  Bottler  ranch.  Deep  snows 
baffled  our  resolute  efforts  to  cross  the  Madison  range  to  the  geysers, 
and,  when  seeking  to  descend  to  the  Yellowstone  Valley  below  the 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  Bottler  was  swept  away  in  attempting  to 
cross  a  mountain  torrent  above  Cinnabar  Mountain,  losing  his  rifle, 
ammunition,  most  of  his  clothing,  and  nearly  his  life.  This  mis 
hap  compelled  our  unwilling  return  from  within  the  Park  through 
the  then  nearly  unknown  and  impassable  second  canon  of  the  Yel 
lowstone  to  Bottler's,  the  only  white  ranchman  at  that  time  upon  any 
portion  of  the  mighty  Yellowstone  River.  Thence  I  retraced  my 
route  to  Fort  Ellis,  published  a  brief  account  of  my  trip  (see  No.  3 
of  my  "  Journal  of  Rambles  in  the  Far  West"),  and,  under  previous 
engagements,  descended  the-  Columbia  to  the  ocean,  then  proposing 
to  return  to  the  exploration  of  the  Park  the  next  year. 

During  the  following  autumn  the  Washburn  expedition  was  sud 
denly  organized  for  Park  exploration.  It  was  composed  of  H.  D. 
Washburn,  N.  P.  Langford,  T.  C.  Everts,  S.  T.  Hauser,  C.  Hedges, 
W.  Trumbull,  B.  Stickney,  W.  C.  Gillett,  and  J.  Smith.  General 
Washburn,  in  command,  was  then  surveyor-general,  T.  C.  Everts  and 
N.  P.  Langford,  ex-officers,  and  all  prominent  and  esteemed  citizens 
of  Montana  Territory.  They  were  well  equipped,  and  at  Fort  Ellis 
were  joined  by  Lieutenant  G.  C.  Doane  and  seven  men.  From  here 
they  followed  my  return  route  to  and  up  the  Yellowstone  through  its 
second  canon.  They  missed  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  buf  visited 
Mount  Washburn,  the  Great  Falls  and  Lake,  returning  by  the  Fire- 
Hole  River  and  Madison  route  to  Virginia  City.  When  among  the 
fingers  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  Everts  lost  his  way,  horse,  arms, 
and  provisions,  and  after  thirty-seven  days  of  exposure,  starvation, 
and  suffering,  doubtless  unequalled  by  any  other  man  now  living,  was 
found  by  Baronet  and  Pritchette,  barely  alive,  upon  the  mountain 
which  bears  his  name,  near  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs.  This  is  the 


238  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 

first  party  of  really  successful  explorers  of  any  considerable  portion  of 
the  Park  of  which  we  have  any  public  record. 

The  interest  elicited  by  the  publications  of  several  of  these  parties 
led  to  Professor  Hay  den's  geological  explorations  of  1871,  and  that 
to  Congressional  dedication,  March  I,  1872,  of  the  Yellowstone 
National  Park,  under  the  control  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior. 

This  laudable  outburst  of  national  enthusiasm  in  behalf  of  a  peer 
less  health-  and  pleasure-resort  for  our  people  seems  to  have  subsided 
with  its  dedication ;  and,  without  any  practical  provision  for  its  pro 
tection,  it  was  for  years  abandoned  to  destructive  forest-fires,  wanton 
slaughter  of  its  interesting  and  valuable  animals,  and  constant  and 
nearly  irreparable  vandalism  of  many  of  its  prominent  wonders.  So 
uniform  was  the  testimony  of  the  civil  and  military  officers  of  tke 
government,  as  well  as  of  the  American  and  European  scientists,  and 
of  myself  and  other  tourists  who  visited  the  Park,  and  so  strong  their 
appeals  to  the  nation  for  its  protection,  or  at  least  the  sending  of  a 
commissioner  or  an  agent  specially  empowered  to  investigate  and 
report  the  facts,  that  among  the  early  acts  of  the  Hon.  Carl  Schurz, 
Secretary  of  the  Interior  in  1877,  was  my  appointment  as  superinten 
dent  of  the  Park,  specially  instructed  to  again  visit  it  and  report  the 
facts  as  I  should  then  find  them,  for  the  information  of  Congress ;  but 
as  to  funds  for  salary,  or  even  expenses,  none  were  furnished  or 
promised,  but  I  was  left  to  rely  upon  Congress  to  make  provision* 
for  all  salary  and  expenses  prior'to  July  I,  1878,  to  properly  pay  for 
the  performance  of  duties  pointed  out  and  positively  required  of  the 
Secretary  of  the  Interior  in  the  act  dedicating  the  Park. 

Under  these  circumstances,  and  without  pecuniary  aid  from  any 
department,  association,  or  individual,  I  proceeded,  via  Bismarck, 
Forts  Buford  and  Keogh,  the  Caster  battle-field,  and  Gate  of  the 
Mountains  upon  the  Yellowstone,  to  the  Park.  After  visiting  the 
most  important  of  its  known  wonders  and  exploring  others,  I  started 
to  descend  the  Yellowstone,  but,  meeting  General  Sherman,  returned 
with  him  to  Tower  Falls.  Here,  by  the  breaking  of  a  saddle-girth, 
I  was  unhorsed,  and  too  seriously  injured  to  proceed  with  the  general 
or  even  to  return  home,  except  by  descending  the  Yellowstone  in  a 
skiff  from  above  the  Gate  of  the  Mountains,  which  course  I  adopted. 

*  This,  upon  the  recommendation  of  the  Honorable  Secretary  of  the  Interior  and 
the  endorsement  of  the  President,  unanimously  passed  both  Houses  since  the 
close  of  my  official  connection  with  the  Park. 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK.  2?Q 

O  x 

During  my  return  home  the  hostile  Nez-Perces  made  a  raid  in  the 
Park,  which  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  General  Sherman 
and  his  slender  escort  narrowly  escaped  capture.  Several  tourists, 
however,  then  in  the  Park,  were  killed,  wounded,  or  captured. 
Among  these  was  Professor  Dietrich,  whose  body  was  riddled  with 
bullets  while  he  was  standing  in  the  door- way  of  the  McCartney 
cabin  at  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs. 

The  facts  and  suggestions  in  reference  to  the  Park,  as  submitted  by 
myself  to  the  Honorable  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  were  incorporated 
in  his  report  of  1877  (part  first,  page  837),  and  also  deemed  by  him 
worthy  of  publication  in  pamphlet  form.  (See  Report  of  the  Super 
intendent  of  the  Yellowstone  National  Park  for  1877.) 

After  a  long  and  careful  investigation  of  the  whole  subject,  and  in 
consideration  of  the  written  opinions  of  prominent  scientists  and  ex 
plorers  of  our  country,  the  cautious  and  prudent  Congress  of  that 
period,  at  its  first  session,  with  flattering  unanimity  made  an  appro 
priation  of  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  protection  and  improvement 
of  the  Park,  being  the  first  ever  furnished  from  any  source,  and  with 
a  portion  of  which  the  first  improvements  ever  made  in  the  Park  were 
commenced  at  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  during  the  Bannock  raid 
of  1878,  and  have  been  continued  as  appropriations  have  since  been 
made. 

AREA   OF   THE   PARK. 

Two  matters  in  connection  with  the  Yellowstone  National  Park 
tend  to  great  and  general  misapprehension  regarding  it.  These  are, 
first,  its  name,  and,  second,  its  area,  or,  as  perhaps  best  treated,  in 
versely. 

The  United  States  maps  and  authorities  show  it  to  be  an  oblong 
square,  62  miles  in  length  from  north  to  south,  and  54  miles  in  width 
from  east  to  west,  containing  3348  square  miles. 

The  tenth  census  of  the  United  States  shows  that  the  area  of  the 
State  of  Delaware  is  1960  square  miles;  State  of  Rhode  Island,  1085 
square  miles;  District  of  Columbia,  60  square  miles;  and  the  aggre 
gate  area  of  the  counties  of  New  York,  Kings,  and  Richmond,  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  is  150,  equal  to  3255  square  miles.  Thus 
the  most  recent  and  reliable  authorities  extant  show  that  this  great 
national  land  of  wonders  contains  93  square  miles  in  excess  of  the 
area  of  two  of  the  original  thirteen  States  of  the  Union,  the 


240 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


District  of  Columbia,  containing  the  capital,  and  the  three  counties 
of  the  State  of  New  York,  which  embraces  the  commercial  emporium 
of  the  first  and  third  cities  of  the  nation,  having  an  aggregate  popula 
tion  of  about  two  million  five  hundred  thousand.  Nor  is  this  a  full 
statement  of  the  case ;  as,  if  to  this  account  were  added  the  actual 
excess  of  surface  measurements  of  this  peculiarly  broken  region  over 
those  relatively  level  eastern  ones,  it  would  certainly  exceed  that  of 
Connecticut,  4845  miles,  and,  with  the  adjacent  Goblin-Land  and 
other  regions  which  I  have  explored  during  the  past  two  seasons, 
fully  equal  that  of  New  Jersey,  Massachusetts,  or  several  other  of  the 
original  States  of  the  Union. 

This  necessarily  lengthy  explanation  of  the  first  question  as  to  the 
magnitude  of  the  Park  so  nearly  disposes  of  the  second,  as  to  the 
name,  that  I  only  add  that,  although  it  is  so  vast  and  broken  by 
mountains  and  canons  into  countless  partially  or  wholly  isolated  parks 
and  valleys,  still  the  whole  of  it  is  nearly  encircled  by  snowy  moun 
tains  with  few  passes,  being  thus  park-like  in  character,  and  the  name 
correct,  or  at  least  difficult  to  substitute  by  one  more  appropriate. 

The  size  and  character  of  this  work,  together  with  the  various 
poems  and  copious  notes  descriptive  of  many  of  the  features  and 
legends  of  the  Wonder-  and  the  Goblin-Lands,  precludes  extending 
the  foregoing  outlines  of  the  Park,  and  hence  I  close  this  necessary 
prelude  to  our  guide  of  routes  with  a  few  practical  suggestions  for 
those  desirous  of  a  charming  ramble  amid  the  countless  marvels  of 
this  national  heritage  of  wonders. 

Neither  the  routes,  modes  of  conveyance,  nor  hotel  accommoda 
tions  of  the  Park  as  yet  equal  those  of  our  eastern  homes,  nor  is  it 
necessary  or  even  desirable  for  the  health  or  enjoyment  of  tourists, 
the  most  of  whom  in  little  groups  of  kindred  or  friends  seek  a  sea 
son  of  variety  and  romantic  privation  in  the  snowy  pass,  the  flowery 
park,  or  secluded  glen  of  nature's  unpolluted  solitudes  as  a  refuge 
from  the  duties  of  office,  the  dictates  of  fashion,  or  as  a  cheering, 
healthful  solace  from  ceaseless  toil  or  corroding  care. 

OUTFIT. 

From  long  and  trying  border  experience  I  can  vouch  that  stimu 
lants  are  not  necessary  but  baneful, — buoyant  hope  and  the  azone  of 
pure  mountain  air  are  matchless  tonics  and  appetizers  ;  but  none  who 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK.  241 

outfit  themselves  may  fear  to  provide  bountifully  of  tea,  coffee,  nu 
tritious  food,  canned  milk,  and  fruit,  as  well  as  warm,  strong  woollen 
clothing,  blankets,  shawls,  etc.,  and  then  double  the  outfit.  Few  will 
regret  relying  upon  this  advice. 

Heretofore  it  has  been  necessary  to  arrange  before  arrival  for  some 
reliable  guide  with  tents,  wagons,  saddle-  and  pack-animals,  and 
other  outfit  and  provisions  not  brought  by  themselves.  This,  although 
perhaps  judicious  for  those  who  have  time  and  opportunity,  is  now 
less  essential,  as  I  learn  that  from  Livingston,  upon  their  main  line, 
just  below  the  Gate  of  the  Mountains,  a  branch  road  will  be  com 
pleted  through  it  and  amid  the  enchanting  scenery  of  the  parks  and 
canons  of  the  Yellowstone,  50  miles  to  the  mouth  of  the  Gardiner,  4 
miles  below  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  and  a  hotel  there,  and  else 
where  in  the  Park,  in  time  for  this  season's  rush  of  tourists. 

The  following  letter  from  the  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent 
of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  Company  gives  all  the  facts  that  are 
obtainable  at  this  date : 

"  NORTHERN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  COMPANY. 
"  GENERAL  PASSENGER  AND  TICKET  DEPARTMENT. 

"  ST.  PAUL,  MINN.,  April  12,  1883. 
"  P.  W.  NORRIS,  Norris,  Michigan. 

"  DEAR  SIR, — Replying  to  yours  of  April  10,  it  is  impossible  to 
give  the  detailed  information  you  desire  regarding  the  accommoda 
tions  in  the  Park  at  this  early  date.  I  can  say  approximately  that  the 
rate  from  St.  Paul  to  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  will  be  ninety  dollars 
for  the  round  trip,  and  that  the  rates  for  transportation  in  the  Park  will 
be  about  twelve  cents  per  mile.  Our  branch  will  be  built  and  open  to 
the  Park  about  the  1st  of  July.  A  large  force  of  men  is  now  employed 
on  the  line  building  it. 

"  One  large  hotel  will  be  built  at  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  and 
smaller  ones  at  Lower  Geyser  Basin,  Upper  Geyser,  Great  Falls,  and 
Lake  Outlet.  Ponies,  attendants,  bath-houses,  and  appurtenances  of 
like  nature  will  be  established  in  connection  with  the  hotels  and  stage 
line. 

"  Yours,  etc., 

«G.  K.  BARNES, 

"G.  P.  6-  T.  A." 
L        a  21 


242  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


PROPER  SEASON  OF   THE   YEAR   FOR   A   TOUR   OF 
THE   PARK. 

The  best  of  all  months  is  August,  then  July,  the  first  half  of  Sep 
tember,  last  half  of  June,  the  most  of  October  and  May,  in  the 
order  named. 

The  fogs,  rains,  and  floods  from  melting  snows  in  early  June,  and 
the  equinoctial  snow-storm  of  September,  are  sure  and  fearful.  July 
arid  August  uniformly  fine,  the  remainder  of  the  year  changeable, 
and  successive  seasons  varying  greatly. 

No  future  danger  from  Indians  or  animals;  no  rattlesnakes  or 
other  venomous  reptiles  ;  gadflies  often  troublesome  upon  animals  in 
June  and  July,  but  mosquitoes  far  less  annoying  than  along  the  rivers 
en  route. 

TIME   NECESSARY  FOR   A   TRIP   OF   THE   PARK. 

This  depends  much  upon  the  health,  means,  taste,  and  leisure  of 
each  person  or  party.  A  week  of  dash  and  jam  in  the  Park  will 
allow  a  glance  at  the  main  geyser-basins,  Mammoth  Hot  Springs, 
Mount  Washburn,  Forks,  Canon,  Falls  and  Lake  of  the  Yellowstone, 
and  other  points  of  interest. en  route.  Ten  days  are  better,  and 
fifteen  ample  for  a  fair  tour  of  all  the  Park  now  opened  up  to  roads 
and  bridle-paths,  while  a  mountain  summer  of  three  months  can  be 
most  pleasantly  and  healthfully  spent  in  the  viewing  and  exploration 
of  the  Wonder-  and  Goblin-Lands  for  years  to  come,  as  between  the 
Yellowstone  Lake  and  the  Big-horn  River  is  one  of  the  wildest, 
roughest,  inaccessible,  least  known,  and  yet  interesting  regions  of  the 
United  States. 

COST  OF  A  TRIP  TO  AND  THROUGHOUT  THE  PARK. 

This  also,  after  leaving  the  railroad,  is  subject  to  variations  similar 
to  those  of  time,  and  dependent  much  upon  them. 

I  have  no  information  of  essential  change  in  the  old  rates  of  five 
dollars  each  for  a  guide  and  packer  with  his  saddle-horse,  or  ten  dol 
lars  for  two  men  and  their  animals,  and  one  dollar  per  day  for  each 
additional  saddle-  or  pack-animal.  The  additional  outfit,  board,  etc., 
if  any,  as  the  parties  mutually  agree,  which,  to  avoid  annoyance 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK.  2^ 

during  the  trip  and  at  its  close,  should  be  clearly  understood  in  writing 
before  its  commencement. 

Should  the  mining  developments  of  these  mountain  regions  equal 
present  indications,  a  railroad  will  reach  the  Park  from  the  East  via 
Clarke's  Forks  Mines  or  the  Two-Ocean  Pass,  or  both  of  them,  as 
well  as  the  Virginia  City  branch  of  the  Utah  Northern  from  Dillon 
within  a  few  years  hereafter,  each  road  increasing  accessibility  am1 
inviting  a  healthy  competition  for  the  patronage  of  tourists  in  makhi"- 
a  cheap,  rapid,  and  easy  visit  to  the  Wonder-Land;  planning  it  as 
the  turning-point,  as  well  as  the  main  region  of  attraction,  in  a  sea 
son's  ramble  for  health  and  enjoyment. 

Should  these  anticipations  be  realized  a  visit  to  the  Park  will  be 
come  national  in  character  and  popular  with  our  people,  so  that  ere 
long  the  flush  of  shame  will  tinge  the  cheeks  of  Americans  who  are 
obliged  to  acknowledge  that  they  loiter  along  the  antiquated  paths  to 
pigmy  haunts  of  other  lands  before  seeking  health,  pleasure,  and  the 
soul-expanding  delights  of  a  season's  ramble  amid  the  peerless  snow- 
and  cliff-encircled  marvels  of  their  own. 

CHOICE  OF  LOOKOUTS. 

Prominent  among  the  bordering  points  of  observation  of  this  vast 
region  is  Electric  Peak,  near  the  northwestern  border,  elevation 
11,775  feet;  Mount  Norris  in  the  northeast,  10,019;  Mounts  Chit- 
tenden,  Hoyt,  Langford,  Slephenson,  and  others  in  the  eastern 
Sierra  Shoshone  border,  and  Mounts  Holmes  and  Bell's  Peak  upon 
the  western,  ranging  between  10,000  and  n,ooo  feet  high,  and 
Mount  Sheridan,  near  the  southern  border,  10,385  feet  high,  still 
backed  by  the  Grand  Teton,  landmark  of  all  those  mountain  regions, 
which  is  over  13,000  feet  in  height.  But  Mount  Washburn,  towering 
upon  the  brink  of  the  yawning  Grand  Canon  water-way  of  the  Yel 
lowstone  Falls  and  Lake,  10,340  feet  high,  is  the  most  central,  ac 
cessible,  and  commanding  for  a  general  view  of  the  Park  and  its 
surroundings.  From  its  isolated  summit  can  be  plainly  seen  on  a 
fair  day,  as  upon  an  open  map,  not  only  this  lake  and  canon  but 
many  others  also,  countless  flowery  parks  and  valleys,  misty  sulphur 
and  steaming  geyser-basins,  dark  pine  and  fir-clad  slopes,  broken 
foot-hills,  craggy  cliffs,  and  snowy  summits  of  the  sundering  and 
surrounding  mountains.  No  tourist  should  fail  in  securing  this  en- 


244  GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  PARK. 

chanting  view,  the  best  plan  of  obtaining  which  is,  upon  reaching 
the  meandering  rivulet-fed  lawns  of  the  Cascade,  the  Glade  or  the 
Antelope  Creeks,  to  go  into  camp  and  await  the  dawn  of  a  cloudless 
summer's  morning.  Then  to  the  scientist,  the  artist,  or  the  poet,  and 
to  the  weary  and  worn  pilgrims  of  health  and  pleasure  from  our  own 
and  other  lands,  ardent  to  secure  the  acme  of  mountain-climbing 
enjoyment,  or  in  viewing  the  lovely  parks  and  yawning  canons,  the 
crests  of  glistening  ice  and  vales  of  blistering  brimstone,  the  records 
of  fire  and  flood,  the  evidences  of  marvellous  eruptions  and  erosions 
of  the  present  and  the  past,  and  day-dreams  of  the  future  in  the 
commingling  purgatory  and  paradise  of  the  peerless  Wonder-Land 
of  earth,  I  would  say  leisurely  ascend  the  terraced  slopes  of  Mount 
Washburn,  and  from  its  oval  summit,  with  throbbing  heart  but  fear 
less  eye  and  soul  expanding,  look  around  you.  One  day  thus  spent 
would  more  adequately  impress  the  mind  with  the  magnitude  and 
marvels  of  the  Park,  and  the  vast  amount  of  exploration  and  research 
necessary  in  finding  routes,  and  the  enormous  amount  of  labor  and 
hardship  unavoidable  in  the  construction  of  buildings,  roads,  bridle 
paths,  trails,  and  other  improvements,  even  when  unmolested  by  hos 
tile  Indians, — as  during  the  past  two  years  only, — than  a  perusal  of 
all  the  reports  and  maps  of  the  Park  which  have  ever  been  pub 
lished. 

HEADQUARTERS   OF  THE   PARK. 

The  loophole-turreted  and  triple-winged  block-house  Headquarters 
of  the  Park  crowns  the  summit  of  an  oblong  grassy  butte  or  hill  150 
feet  above  the  cedar  grove,  a  portion  of  which,  as  shown  in  the  illus 
tration,  is  still  standing,  submerged  and  semi -fossilized  by  deposits 
from  the  mineral  waters  of  the  main  active  Mammoth  Hot  Springs, 
which  rise  in  inimitably  beautiful  scollop-bordered  pools  and  bril 
liantly-tinted  pearly-white  terraces  directly  fronting,  and  to  an  eleva 
tion  greater  than  the  balcony  of  the  Headquarters.  Thence  through 
the  shifting  clouds  of  vapor  ever  escaping  from  these  unique  fountains, 
the  active,  the  dying,  the  dead  cedar-fringed  and  crumbling,  then  the 
dark  pine  and  balsam-hidden  pools  and  terraces  rise  successively  as 
they  recede  to  the  most  ancient  and  once  powerful  of  the  now  ex 
tinct  craters  or  cones  upon  the  summit  of  the  Terrace  Mountain, 
which  much  of  the  year  presents  an  outline  of  snow  amid  the  clouds. 
Almost  beneath  this  building,  to  the  right,  are  seen  the  famous 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


245 


Liberty-Cap  crumbling  cone  of  an  extinct  pulsating  geyser,  45  feet 
high,  the  Devil's  Thumb,  somewhnt  smaller,  numerous  ragged-edged 


MAMMOTH    HOT   SPRINGS. 


pits  of  ancient  pools,  nearly  as  deep,  the  sinks  of  two  cold-watei 
creeks,  the  McCartney  buildings  upon,  and  the  grassy  slopes  and 
craggy  summits  of  the  Sepulchre  Mountain  above  them. 

To  the  left  the  clear-cut  sky-line  of  the  White  Cliffs,  and  eroded 


21 


246  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 

gorge  of  the  West  Gardiner  just  to  the  right,  the  pine-clad  cone  of 
Bunsen's  Peak  to  its  left,  the  yawning  canon  and  basaltic  cliffs  of  the 
Middle  Gardiner,  and  still  farther  to  the  left  the  nearly  vertical  walls 
and  battlements  above  the  double  falls,  and  beyond  them  the  silvery 
thread  of  the  Cascades  of  the  East  Gardiner,  with  the  Mount  Stephens 
range  in  the  background,  are  all  in  clear  and  undisturbed  view.  To 
the  rear  the  descent  is  continuous  and  often  terraced  or  precipitous 
for  fully  a  mile  to  the  Main  Gardiner,  and  fine  trout-fishing  from  the 
shelly  geyserite  roof  of  a  subterranean  river,  to  where  its  seething 
waters,  in  volume  sufficient  for  a  fine  mill-stream,  filled  with  the 
floating  vegetation  peculiar  to  these  hot  mineral  streams,  runs  for 
some  distance  beside  the  cold  snow-fed  waters  of  the  Gardiner  before 
commingling.  This  is  at  the  base  of  the  nearly  vertical  walls  of  Mount 
Evarts,  fully  2000  feet  high,  through  a  spur  of  which  is  a  yawning 
water-way  to  the  foaming  Yellowstone  near  the  Bear  Gulch  drainage 
of  the  gold  and  silver  mines  adjacent.  (See  notes  53  to  56.) 

To  this  point  ascends  the  road  from  the  railroad  below,  and  from 
it  radiate  those  up  the  East  Gardiner  towards  the  forks  and  falls  of 
the  Yellowstone,  that  over  the  Terrace  Pass  to  the  Geyser  or  Fire- 
Hole  Basins  and  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  also  a  bridle-path  between 
Bunserfs  Peak  and  the  Falls  of  the  Middle  Gardiner,  via  the  Sheep- 
Eater  cliffs  to  its  junction  with  the  Geyser  road  near  Swan  Lake. 


MIDDLE   GARDINER    BRIDLE-PATH. 

This  bridle-path  route  offers  at  least  one  day  of  ramble  among  points 
of  exceeding  interest,  and  will  be  first  described. 

The  route  selected  for  a  future  road  follows  that  now  in  use  for 
hauling  timber  to  its  end ;  thence,  -via  a  cascade  just  below  the  im 
passable  portion  of  the  canon  of  the  West  Gardiner;  thence,  deflect 
ing  to  the  left,  ascends  by  a  uniform  grade  along  the  timbered  slopes 
of  Bunsen's  Peak  to  the  present  bridle-path  below  the  falls  of  the 
Middle  Gardiner.  Along  and  between  this  route  and  the  vertical 
White  Cliffs,  among  the  immense  masses  of  upturned  angular  rocks 
there  hurled  from  the  cliffs,  is  one  of  the  wildest  thicket-hidden 
haunts  of  grouse,  rabbits,  and  hares,  as  well  as  of  bear,  wolf,  and 
wolverine,  which  I  have  ever  visited,  even  afoot,  in  which  way  only 
the  most  of  it  can  be  traversed. 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


247 


The  bridle-path,  as  now  travelled,  leaves  this  road  near 
the  edge  of  the  timber,  and  crossing  the  deep  valley 
of  the  West  Gardiner,. ascends  steadily,  sometimes 
steeply,  near  2000  feet  to  the  summit  of  the  terrace 
between  Bunsen's  Peak  and  the  yawning  canon  of 
the  Middle  Gardiner,  three  miles  from  the  Head 
quarters. 

Near  this  point  a  trail  blazed  through  the  small  pines 
and  aspens  leads  within  half  a  mile  to  Butler's 
Lookout,  on  the  edge  of  a  cliff  rising  fully  1000  feet 
from  the  winding  thread  of  silver,  about  half  a  mile 
below  the  falls.  This  cliff,  though  at  so  great  a  dis 
tance  and  elevation  from  the  falls,  is  the  best  point 
from  which  to  obtain  a  good  view  of  the  nearly  200- 
feet  leap,  and  also  of  the  terrible  canon  and  loom 
ing  cliffs  of  basalt,  portions  of  which  are  uniquely 
radiate  or  fan-shaped. 

Returning  to  the  main  bridle-path,  and  passing  through 
alternate  glade  and  grove  for  a  mile,  we  reach  the 
brink  between  the  falls  and  the  Sheep- Eater  Cliffs, 
which  extend  a  distance  of  2  miles,  in  one  portion 
of  which  they  wall  in  a  secluded  lovely  little  haunt 
of  the  Sheep-Eater  Indians,  and  hence  the  name 
and  description  at  the  time  of  its  discovery.  (See 
pages  10  and  1 1  of  my  report  of  1879.)  . 

The  trail  skirts  these  cliffs  less  than  a  mile,  and  then 
through  aspen  groves  and  sedgy  glades  to  its  inter 
section  of  the  Fire-Hole  road  south  of  Swan  Lake, 
from  which  point  it  is  about  6  miles  by  each  route 
to  the  Headquarters  ...... 

Bunsen's  Peak  can  be  ascended  mainly  upon  horse 
back  from  the  terrace  of  great  sage-brush  from  the 
southwestern  side. 

In  the  dense  thickets  of  small  pines  skirting  the" west 
ern  foot  of  this  peak  are  the  decaying  remains  of  an 
ancient  drive-way  of  the  Sheep-Eaters,  and  the  ruins 
of  one  of  their  pole  coverts  for  arrow-shooting  is  still 
standing  just  back  of  the  verge  of  the  cliff,  a  little 
southeasterly  from  the  Rustic  Falls.  These  are 
where  the  West  Gardiner,  after  meandering  through 
a  grassy  plain  nearly  to  its  border,  glides  some  40  or 
50  feet  down  a  mossy  rock,  so  smooth,  so  placid, 
and  so  noiselessly  as  to  present  to  one  standing  afoot 
or  upon  horseback,  as  can  easily  and  safely  be  done 
upon  its  very  margin  of  mist-nourished  ferns  and 
flowers,  a  contrast  unique  and  matchless  to  the  suc 
ceeding  1500  feet  of  dashing,  foaming  descent  adown 
a  ragged  canon  water-way  in  magnitude  immensely 


Miles. 


Miles. 


248 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


too  large  for  that  now  flowing  there,  and  impassable 
for  any  but  an  experienced  mountaineer  afoot. 
From  these  falls  one  may,  by  careful  riding  north 
erly  within  a  mile,  reach  the  summit  of  the  Ter 
race  Mountain,  tread  the  terribly  fractured  verge 
of  the  White  Cliffs,  view  the  ancient  cones  of  ex 
tinct  geysers,  obtain  enchanting  view  of  our  valley, 
buildings,  and  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  at  our 
feet,  the  snowy  crests  of  Electric,  Holmes's,  and 
Bell's  Peaks  in  the  north  and  southwest,  and  also 
on  a  fair  day  the  icy  peaks  of  the  Three  Tetons, 
more  than  100  miles  away  in  the  southern  horizon. 
\Ve  thence  descend  northwesterly  above  and  then 
through  the  Terrace  Pass  to  the  Headquarters.  This 
trip,  although  so  interesting,  is  one  of  only  10  or  12 
miles  in  distance,  a  very  easy  day's  ride,  and  can  be 
made  in  much  less. 

ROAD   TO   THE   GEYSER-BASINS. 

From  the  guide-board,  near  the  Devil's  Thumb,  ascend 
the  soft  sinter  terrace  to  the  left,  and  by  a  winding 
way  and  some  steep  grades  pass  above,  and  over 
looking  the  blue,  active  Hot  Spring^,  and  over  or 
among  the  crumbling  or  forest-overgrown  ancient 
cones  and  terraces  to  the  summit  of  Terrace  Pass  . 

Half  a  mile  of  slight  descent,  short  turn  to  the  left, 
and  then  through  an  open  lawn-like  valley,  good 
water  and  camps  to  Swan  Lake  on  the  right  . 

Less  than  a  mile  back,  a  half-mile  side  trip  to  the  left 
and  sharp  notch  at  the  head  of  canon,  a  good  view 
of  the  Rustic  Falls,  Sheep-Eater  covert  on  the 
cliff,  and  old  camp  of  these  Sheep-Eaters  in  the 
valley. 

Bridge  over  the  Middle  Gardiner        . 

One  mile  above  is  the  mouth  of  Indian  Creek,  which 
the  hostile  Bannocks  descended  from  the  pass  be 
tween  Holmes's  and  Bell's  Peaks,  and  at  their  camp 
between  the  streams,  just  below,  slaughtered  a  large 
number  of  captured  horses  for  food  in  1878. 

A  fine  ride  of  5  miles  and  return  will  allow  a  good 
view  of  Bell's  Peak,  fine  valleys  and  streams,  but 
no  fish. 

Cross  and  then  ascend  Obsidian  Creek  to  the  bridge  at 
upper  end  of  Willow  Park,  and  first  night's  camp; 
water  plentiful,  but  only  passable;  wood  and  grass 
abundant  and  excellent  ...... 

Opposite  the  lower  end  of  some  slide  rock  on  the  right 


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249 


are  two  springs  of  ice-cold  water,  the  last,  except  the 
indifferent  water  of  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  which 
is  palatable  or  safe  to  use  for  5  miles 

Bridge  and  long  causeway  to  Obsidian  Cliffs  and 
Beaver  Lake  

The  grade  between  them  was  made  by  hurling  dry 
pines  from  the  cliff  for  eminence  fires  to  fracture  the 
huge  blocks  of  native  glass,  and  then  pounding  them 
down  with  sledges,  in  1878. 

The  best  of  the  red,  yellow,  or  banded  specimens  of 
obsidian  are  near  the  foot  of  the  vertical  cliff  at  the 
south  end  of  the  grade.  Beaver  Lake  was  made  by 
these  animals,  whose  dams  and  houses  are  still  to 
be  seen  at  various  places  upon  it. 

The  naked  estuary- looking  beach  near  the  upper  end 
of  this  lake  is  caused  by  poisonous  water  from  Green 
Creek,  which  is  to  be  seen  at  the  right  . 

Long  grade  above  a  nauseous  brimstone-basin  on  the 
right,  then  a  fine  view  of  Mount  Holmes  and  Bell's 
Peak  to  the  northwest  from  the  drainage  divide  of  the 
Yellowstone  and  Madison  fork  of  the  Missouri,  then 
a  slight  descent  to  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  thus  ap 
propriately  named  at  the  time  of  its  discovery,  when 
I  was  searching  for  water  which  was  not  poisonous 
for  one  of  my  men,  severely  injured  by  the  fall  of 
his  horse  in  a  bear-fight  .... 

Several  nauseous  fire-holes  to  an  open  valley;  good 
wood,  water,  and  camps  in  the  Norris  Valley  . 

Bridge  over  Norris  fork  and  nearest  camp  to  the 
Norris  Geyser  Basin  ..... 

Uniquely  beautiful  blue  Emerald  Pool  just  to  the  left 
of  the  road  on  the  second  hill 

The  great  cloud  of  steam  to  the  left  is  from  the  New 
Crater,  the  outburst  of  which  T  witnessed,  as  shown 
in  my  report  of  1878,  which  is  now  a  powerful 
geyser  of  erratic  habits  and  irregular  periods  of  erup 
tion  of  its  column  of  waters,  which  is  sometimes 
loo  feet  high,  but  usually  much  less  At  the  foot 
of  the  hill  beyond  the  Minute-Man,  with  regular 
spurts  of  20  or  30  feet,  and  200  yards  south,  in  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  is  the  Monarch,  which  daily  throws 
one  vertical  and  two  diagonal  columns  of  hot  water 
about  100  feet  high,  with  rumblings  which  shake 
the  valley,  until  a  creek  of  hot  water  for  a  time  bars 
all  travel  upon  the  road. 

The  Vixen,  Constant,  and  many  others  are  very  interest 
ing,  as  also  the  finest  plateau  of  boiling  pools,  and 
unique  porcelain-like  rims  to  funnels  to  be  found 


Miles. 

I 
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25° 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


in' the  Park.  The  road  could  not  be  built  through 
the  middle  of  this  basin,  much  of  which,  towards 
the  northwest  where  I  first  discovered  it  in  1875,  *s 
still  unexplored,  and  although  one  of  the  oldest, 
largest,  and  probably  once  powerful  in  the  Park, 
for  want  of  water  or  other  cause  has  not  now  as 
many  powerful  geysers  as  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin. 

Through  the  balance  of  this  basin  upon  the  road,  and 
a  dense  pine  forest  to  a  fine  camp  to  the  left  of  the 
mouth  of  the  bubble-covered  Geyser  Creek  . 

This  is  one  of  the  most  charmingly  secluded  parks 
and  camp  of  the  mountains,  and  from  the  accessi 
bility  of  the  cascades  and  red  pulsating  geysers  in 
the  canon  of  the  Norris  Fork  I  ^  miles  above,  the  nu 
merous  lakes,  the  matchless  Paint- Pots  and  geysers 
to  the  south,  and  the  Monument  Geyser  Basin  upon 
Mount  Schurz  to  the  west,  must  ever  remain  a  favorite 
camping-place,  the  only  drawback  being  the  water, 
which,  only  palatable  above,  is  utterly  unfit  for  use 
below  the  mouth  of  Geyser  Creek. 

The  only  good  water  attainable  is  in  the  Gibbon, 
which  is  a  cold,  snow-fed  stream  from  Mount 
Holmes  to  its  confluence  with  the  Norris  fork,  one 
mile  above. 

From  this  place  we  ran  a  wagon  as  far  as  possible  with 
animals,  then  with  men,  towards  the  famous  Geyser 
Cone,  now  in  the  National  Museum  in  Washington, 
which  was  neany  two  miles,  by  a  circuitous  route, 
to  the  foot  of  the  bluffs  beyond  the  Paint-Pots. 
There  it  required  a  blacksmith  frequently  sharpen 
ing  tools,  a  man  to  assist  in  drilling  and  chiselling, 
and  another  to  cany  and  throw  cold  water  upon 
them  to  prevent  parboiling  in  the  hot  steam  and 
jets  from  its  seventeen  fine  pulsating  cones  or  orifices 
for  nearly  a  week,  and  then  twenty  men  to  carry  it 
amid  the  bottomless  boiling  chaldrons  to  the  wagon, 
and  thence  it  was  conveyed  safely  to  Washington, 
although  weighing  nearly  half  a  ton. 

A  bridle-path  extends  from  the  end  of  this  road 
through  the  earthquake  shakes  and  fallen  timber — 
1 1  miles  in  all — to  Willow  Creek  Camp,  upon  the 
East  Fire-Hole  River;  but  it  is  unsafe  to  attempt  to 
follow  it  without  a  guide. 

In  a  horseshoe  bend  of  the  Gibbon,  near  the  lower 
end  of  this  park,  we  fortified  our  camp,  while  I 
explored  the  country,  and  we  opened  our  road 
through  the  canon  of  the  Gibbon  during  the  Ban 
nock  raid  of  1878. 


Miles.  I  Miles. 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  PARK. 


25 I 


Foot-bridge  over  the  Gibbon  at  the  head  of  the 
canon  ......... 

Ascent  of  Mount  Schurz  to  the  matchless  cones  and 
charming  view  from  the  Monument  Geyser  Basin 
and  river,  each  1-2. 

Two  crossings  of  the  Gibbon  in  its  Grand  Canon,  amid 
heavy  boiling  pools,  and  thence  through  open  pine 
groves  upon  the  plateau  between  the  ancient  chan 
nel  of  the  Gibbon  on  the  left,  and  its  modern  canon 
torn  through  the  spur  of  a  mountain  to  the  right 
to  its  80- feet  falls,  many  hundreds  of  feet  below 
the  road  ........ 

Uniform  descent  to  the  old  channel  of  the  Gibbon  at 
Canon  Creek  ....... 

Good  water  and  fuel,  but  the  only  camp  for  miles  is 
one-half  mile  up  the  creek  before  crossing,  where 
wood  and  water  are  fine  and  abundant,  but  grass 
inferior  in  quality,  ground  boggy,  and  unsafe  for 
picket-pins. 

Long  grade,  then  open  pine  groves  and  burned  tract 
to  the  Earthquake  Cliffs 

The  old  road  of  1878  passes  below  these  cliffs  to  the 
Madison  Canon  route. 

Dry,  open  route  to  the  intersection  with  the  old  Madi 
son  Canon  road,  and  thence  to  Lookout  Terrace, 
where  we  get  the  first  view  of  the  steam-clouds 
from  the  Excelsior  and  other  geysers  of  the  Fire- 
Hole  Valley,  stretching  away  to  the  blue  foot-hills 
of  the  main  Rocky  Mountains  just  beyond  the  Up 
per  Basin  .  

Easy  descent  and  fine  road  beside  the  broad  grassy 
channel  of  the  Madison  ;  always  full  and  seldom 
overflowed  to  its  head  at  the  confluence,  or,  as 
called,  Forks  of  the  Fire-Hole  River;  and  thence 
to  Prospect  Point  at  the  crossing  of  the  East  Fork  . 

Near  this  point  are  now  some  rude  government  build 
ings,  and  from  it  roads  diverge  as  follows  : 


DILLON,  ON  THE  NORTHERN  UTAH  RAIL 
ROAD,  VIA  HENRY'S  LAKE  AND  VIR 
GINIA  CITY,  OR  REVERSING  THE  ROUTE. 

Dillon  to  Virginia  City,  daily  coach  .... 
Henry's   Lake,  hired    conveyance,  good   fishing  and 

camp      .         .         . 

Riverside,  within  the  Park,  good  fishing  and  camp     . 


Miles. 

Miles. 

I 

25 

4 

29 

* 

32 

2 

34 

3 

37 

65 

60 

22 

125 
H7 

252 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK, 


Lookout  Cliffs  and  lovely  view  of  mountains  and  val 
leys 

Marshall's  Hotel,  near  the  forks  of  the  Fire-Holes     . 

Excellent  fords  of  both  forks  to  Prospect  Point 

The  route  of  60  or  70  miles  from  Henry's  Lake  down 
its  fork  to  Camas,  or  to  Beaver  Canon,  on  the 
Northern  Utah  Railroad,  is  an  old  and  natural  one, 
but  no  inhabitants  and  little  travelled. 

OLD  MADISON  CANON  ROAD. 

Prospect  Point  to  the  mouth  of  the  Gibbon,  good  camp 

and  fishing 

Five  fords  of  the  Madison  in  its  canon,  good  camp 

and  fishing     ........ 

Down  the  river  to  Riverside,  good  camp  and  fishing 
From  this  point  there  is  a  somewhat  shorter,  newer, 

and  rougher  route  down    the   Madison   canons  to 

Virginia  City. 

QUEEN'S  LAUNDRY  ROAD. 

This  was  opened  and  our  camp  made  at  the  foot  of  the 
Northern  Cliffs  to  the  Geyser  Meadows,  from  which, 
by  a  steep  bridle-path,  we  reached  our  line  of  road, 
while  constructing  it  amid  the  old  snow-fields  on  the 
Madison  Plateau  to  the  Lookout  Cliffs,  late  in  July, 
1880. 

It  was  while  thus  engaged  that,  during  a  Sabbath's 
rest  and  bathing  recreation,  some  of  the  boys  crossed 
from  our  camp  to  the  attractive  bordered  pools 
below  this  great  boiling  fountain,  and  in  one 
cool  enough  for  bathing  discovered  its  matchless 
cleansing  properties,  and  from  the  long  lines  of 
bright-colored  clothing  soon  seen  drying  upon  the 
adjacent  stumps  and  branches,  while  their  owners 
were  gambolling  like  dolphins  in  the  pools,  the  en 
vious  cooks  and  other  camp  attaches  dubbed  it  the 
Laundry,  with  a  variety  of  prefixes,  of  which  that 
which  I  deemed  the  most  appropriate  adheres,  and 
hence  the  name  Queen's  Laundry  . 

Thus  from  Prospect  Point  it  is  a  six-,  and  from  Mar 
shall's  Hotel  four-mile  trip,  through  lovely  groves  and 
glades,  and  amid  unique  geyser  and  other  h^pspring 
cones  to  visit  and,  by  a  bath-house  which  I  con 
structed  in  1 88 1,  or  hopefully  a  better  one,  test  for 
themselves  the  velvety  feel  and  cleansing  properties 
of  these  waters. 


Miles. 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


A.  road  from  this  spring  through  lovely  parks  and 
groves  via  the  accessible  Twin  Buttes,  as  near  the 
200-feet  Fairy  Falls  as  the  bogs  below  it  will  allow, 
and  thence  to  the  Midway  Geyser  Basin,  so  that 
tourists  might  go  one  route  and  return  the  other  in  a 
visit  to  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin,  is  one  of  the  routes 
planned  and  blazed  out,  but  not  completed,  before 
my  leaving  the  Park. 

GEYSER   VALLEY   ROAD. 

During  the  summer  and  early  autumn  this  road  is 
usually,  though  portions  of  it  not  always,  a  good  one. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  from  the  Headquarters  to 
Prospect  Point  is 

Thence  to  old  Camp  Reunion,  near  the  butte  to  the 
left,  skori 

It  was  here  that  a  portion  of  the  Hayden  expedition 
of  1878,  under  Gannett  and  Holmes,  and  some  of 
Wilson's  soon  after,  set  afoot  by  the  hostile  Ban 
nocks  near  Henry's  Lake,  and  my  own  party,  after 
many  weeks  of  travelling  from  different  directions, 
first  met  white  men,  and  rudely  fortified  a  camp  for 
concentration  while  variously  engaged  in  explora 
tion,  geological  research,  and  construction  of  our 
road  up  the  main  Fire- Hole  River. 

White  sinter  in  the  Lower  Geyser  Basin  to  a  laminated 
plateau  on  the  left,  where  are  several  interesting 
pools  and  geysers,  the  most  regular  and  best  known 
of  which  is  the  Fountain 

Plain  of  white  sinter,  or  geyserite,  a  creek  and  several 
rivulets  of  hot  water,  then  to  the  right  of  the  main 
road  is  the  rocky  ford  of  the  Fire- Hole  River,  just 
below  the  Excelsior  Geyser,  when  its  deluge  of 
seething  water,  cloud  of  scalding  steam,  or  shower  of 
hot  rocks  do  not  prevent  its  use 

On  page  58  of  rny  report  of  1 88 1  is  a  sketch  by  Hay- 
den,  in  1871,  of  this  geyser  before  it  was  known  to 
be  one,  but  frequently  called  "  Hill's  Half- Acre," 
and  on  page  62  a  sketch  by  myself  in  1881,  after  one 
season's  eruptions,  and  a  reliable  narrative  of  all 
then  known  of  it,  from  which  I  briefly  quote  in 
substance  that  its  first  known  eruption  somewhat  re 
tarded  the  return  of  our  wagon  in  1878.  its  constantly 
increasing  agitatitfl^  and  discharge  of  hot  water 
until  its  commencement  of  eruptions  in  February, 
1 88 1,  as  a  daily  geyser,  and  after  various  spasmodic 
changes  "  seems  to  be  settling  down  to  business  as 


Miles. 

Miles. 

37 

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38 

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39 

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254 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


a  regular  two-  or  three-hour  intermittent  geyser,  but 
so  immensely  excelling  any  other  ancient  or  modern 
known  to  history  that  I  find  but  one  name  fitting, 
and  hence  christen  it  the  Excelsior  until  scientists, 
if  able,  shall  invent  one  more  appropriate."  The 
crater  of  this  volcanic  geyser  has  been  immensely 
increased,  the  timber  along  the  river  for  some  dis 
tance  below  it  killed,  the  ford  and  the  camp  oppo 
site  rendered  unsafe,  and  the  cloud-capped  pillar  of 
vapor  arising  therefrom,  even  when  not  in  eruption, 
become  so  great  and  peculiar,  as  to  have  been  a  clear- 
cut  and  unmistakable  landmark  from  nearly  every 
mountain-peak  in  all  my  explorations  of  the  entire 
Sierra  Shoshone,  and  portions  of  the  Yellowstone, 
Madison,  and  Rocky  Mountain  Ranges  during  1881. 
There  is  a  great  scallop-bordered  pool  or  lakelet  of 
deep-blue  hot  water  on  a  self-formed  plateau  just 
above,  and  others  about  the  Excelsior,  the  steaming, 
foaming  hot-water  outlets  of  which  are  bordered  by 
brightly  tinted,  pearly  formations  too  delicately  beau 
tiful  for  pencil  to  paint  or  pen  portray. 
The  main  road  to  the  east  of  the  river,  and  that  across 
the  Geyser  plateau,  unite  after  the  latter  has,  by  a 
rapid  rocky  ford,  crossed  the  river  and  passed 
through  a  group  of  interesting  ancient  pools  and 
spasmodic  salses  ....••• 
The  road  thence  winds  along  the  low  foot-hills,  sandy 
terraces,  and  marshy  meadows  of  the  Fire- Hole  River 
to  a  rocky  ford  between  the  Fan  and  Riverside  Gey 
sers,  and  thence,  as  shown  upon  the  map  of  the  Upper 
Geyser  Basin,  to  Old  Faithful,  the  most  reliable  of 
all  known  geysers,  at  the  head  of  the  basin,  which 
our  wagon,  the  first  that  ever  made  a  track  up  the 
main  Fire- Hole  Valley,  reached  on  the  2Qth  day  of 
August,  1878  ....••• 
As  this  map  shows  the  relative  location  and  the  table 
of  geysers, — the  character  of  the  eruptions  of  the 
most  prominent  of  them, — I  will  here  only  insert  an 
illustiation  of  the  Bee-Hive  Geyser  in  eruption, 
and  quote  pages  20  and  21  of  my  report  of  1880  as 
descriptive  of  the  usual  phenomena  of  geysers. 


SPOUTING  OR  INTERMITTENT  GEYSERS. 
Without  attempting  to  decide  a  mooted  question  among  savants  as 
to  the  true  origin  of  these  prominent  wonders  of  the  Park,  I  venture 
to  state  that  successive  years  of  careful  observation  tend  toward  the 


liles.     Miles. 


42 


47 


yi 


'ffis?1"*  •'< 

I 


MAP 

OF    THE 

UPPER  GEYSER  BASIN 


J X,\^%e 


Cisne  '•• 


256  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 

theory  that,  like  pulsating  geysers,  salses,  fumeroles,  and  most  of 
the  other  kinds  of  hot  springs,  they  are  primarily  escape-vents  for  the 
earth's  pent-up  internal  fires.  In  these  vents  the  chemical  action  of 
escaping  gas  and  high-pressure  steam  produced  by  contact  of  this 
escaping  hot  gas  with  the  permeating  surface-water,  by  dissolving 
the  wall-rock  increases  the  heat  and  enlarges  the  orifice  of  these 
small,  tortuous,  and  otherwise  cooling  fissure-vents. 

Slow,  but  sure  and  constant,  change  attends  them  all,  and  many, 
though  probably  not  all  of  them,  at  the  proper  stage  become  true  in 
termittent  spouting  geysers.  This  can  occur  only  when  the  orifice  is 
so  nicely  adjusted  in  height,  size,  and  form  to  the  power  of  the  es 
caping  steam  and  gas  in  the  self-formed  chamber  beneath,  that  the 
pressure  of  accumulating  water  for  a  time  nearly  or  quite  prevents 
its  escape  except  through  sympathetic  fumeroles  or  natural  safety- 
valves.  But  the  constantly-increasing  force  from  beneath  ultimately 
overpowers  the  pressure  of  the  water,  when,  after  more  or  less  sub 
terranean  rumbling,  earth  trembling,  and  sundry  kinds  of  bubbling, 
gurgling,  and  spluttering,  the  aqueous  monster  seems  fairly  aroused, 
and  then  occurs  the  grand  eruption.  This  is  usually  through  one, 
but  occasionally  through  several  circular  or  oblong  vents,  cones,  or 
craters,  with  diverse  kinds  of  throbbings  and  pulsations  in  the  differ 
ent  geysers,  each  having  its  own  peculiarities  in  color  and  size  and 
in  the  shape  of  the  orifices,  as  also  in  the  height,  power,  and  direc 
tion  of  the  column  or  columns  of  water  and  the  length  of  the  periods 
of  eruption  and  of  repose;  and  even  these,  as  above  stated,  are 
doubtless  slowly  changing. 

While  the  foregoing  theory  seemingly  accounts  for  the  usual  mani 
festations  of  geyser  eruptions,  still  the  rending  of  huge  geyser  cones 
and  the  hurling  of  tons  of  rock,  as  have  occurred  at  the  Giant  and 
New  Crater  Geysers  and  elsewhere,  seem  to  indicate  an  occasional 
outburst  of  some  greater  power.  Explosions  of  superheated  steam 
or  of  gas,  misplacement  of  the  safety-valve  upon  escape-vents  of  in 
ternal  fires,  infernal  regions,  or  other  places  of  pent-up  power  are 
occasionally  suggested  by  phenomena  otherwise  inexplicable. 

To  the  Upper,  Lower,  and  Midway  Geyser  Basins  upon  the  Fire- 
Hole  Rivers,  and  others  less  important  upon  the  shores  of  the  Yel 
lowstone,  Heart,  and  Shoshone  Lakes,  early  discovered  by  others, 
my  own  explorations  have  added  the  Monument,  the  Norris,  and  the 
Paint- Pool  Basins  upon  the  Gibbon  or  its  branches,  the  Safety- Valve 


BEE-HIVE   GEYSER. 


258  GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 

in  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Yellowstone,  and  several  others,  less  im 
portant,  in  other  portions  of  the  Park,  which  is  now  so  well  explored 
that  there  seems  little  probability  of  additional  basins  of  importance 
being  hereafter  discovered.  Still,  as  my  own  explorations  have 
mainly  been  made  in  connection  with  the  ever-urgent  duties  of  ex 
ploring  or  opening  roads  or  trail  routes,  and  the  scientific  explorers 
of  the  Park  have  labored  under  many  and  grave  disadvantages 
during  brief  periods  of  summer  only,  amid  hostile  Indians,  doubtless 
interesting  isolated  geysers,  or  perhaps  small  groups  of  them,  may  yet 
be  discovered.  In  fact,  so  little,  comparatively,  is  yet  known  of  the 
number,  size,  and  peculiarities  of  the  various  geysers  or  other  springs 
of  these  regions  that  I  deem  it  one  of  the  most  inviting  fields  for 
further  scientific  investigation. 


ERUPTIONS  OF  SPOUTING  GEYSERS. 

Although,  as  above  shown,  each  class  of  geysers  has  its  own 
peculiarities  and  approximately  regular  periods  of  eruption,  yet  of 
Old  Faithful,  which  alone  of  all  the  large  geysers  has  no  fumerole, 
escape-vents,  or  sympathetic  geyser,  and  a  few  others  with  small 
ones  are  they  as  yet  known,  and  hence  until  a  more  careful  and  con 
tinuous  observance  of  them  I  view  any  table  of  eruptions  more  as 
an  indication  when  to  look  for,  rather  than  when  to  rely  upon  seeing 
a  full  eruption,  notably  from  those  having  long  periods  of  repose, 
sympathetic  geysers,  or  even  nature's  safety-valves, — fumeroles. 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


259 


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260 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  PARK. 


Leaving  the  bridle-path  to  Shoshone  and  Yellowstone 
Lakes  for  the  present,  we  return  to  Prospect  Point.  . 


ROAD  TO  THE  YELLOWSTONE  LAKE  AND 
FALLS. 

This  passes  through  the  old  war-path  gap  just  south 
of  Prospect  Point,  in  a  mile  pass  where  the  tourist 
Cowan  and  family  were  captured  by  the  Nez-Perces 
in  1877,  then  in  the  open  valley  of  the  East  Fire- 
Hole  River,  and  over  several  good  fords  to  Rocky 
Fork,  fringed  by  willows,  but  fine  water,  grass,  fuel, 
and  camp,  but  no  fish  ...... 

Open  valley  past  the  dangerous  trail  to  Gibbon  Mead 
ows  to  our  old  camp  to  the  left  on  Willow  Creek  . 

A  wild  mountain  route,  which  I  often  took  up  this 
stream,  and  through  a  timbered  pass  alive  with  game 
to  the  Fire-Hole  on  Alum  Creek,  beyond  the  moun 
tain,  before  grading  the  road  up  its  face ;  should  not 
be  attempted  by  any  but  a  good  mountaineer  or 
accompanied  by  a  reliable  guide.  Cross  a  marsh, 
and  then  meander,  steadily  rising  to  the  long  but 
excellent  grade  up  the  face  of  the  mountain,  and 
thence  along  an  ancient  dry  canon  outlet  of  Mary's 
Lake  to  its  fine  beach  and  clear  but  brackish  waters. 
No  fish  and  poor  camp  ...... 

In  the  open  pines  of  the  summit,  just  east  of  this  lake, 
is  the  remains  of  Chief  Joseph's  corral  in  1877. 

Down  amidst  the  foaming  springs,  scratching  fumeroles, 
and  scorching  brimstone-pits  of  the  Alum  Creek 
Fire-Hole  Basin  we  descend  to  a  sheltered  grassy 
camp  on  a  small  branch  entering  from  the  right. 
Tepid  water,  but  fine  fuel,  grass,  and  sheltered 
camp 

The  oft-repeated  and  published  assertion  that  there 
are  no  fish  upon  this  route  between  the  Mammoth  Hot 
Springs  and  the  Yellowstone  River  is  somewhat  in 
correct,  as  they  are  sparsely  found  at  some  seasons 
of  the  year  in  the  lower  Gibbon  and  head  of  the 
Madison  ;  and  in  the  branch  above  this  camp  and 
others  east  of  it  there  are  abundance  of  game  trout 
just  above  where  they  join  the  sour  hot  waters  of 
Alum  Creek,  which  would  pucker  a  persimmon  or 
scald  a  Nevada  lizard.  I  do  not  attempt  to  ac 
count  for  the  presence  of  these  trout  here,  or  their 
absence  in  waters  apparently  more  favorable  for 
them  to  reach  or  inhabit,  as  I  am  not  advancing 


Miles. 


10 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


261 


theories,  but  recording  facts  for  the  guidance  of 
others. 

From  this  camp  the  road  crosses  enchanting  pine-  and 
balsam-bordered  parks,  winds  through  a  region  of 
eroded  and  still  eroding  buttes,  and  then  makes 
nearly  a  direct  stretch  over  the  treeless  valley  of 
Sage  Creek  to  the  old  trail  near  the  Yellowstone 
River  

Here  the  road  forks,  and  taking  that  to  the  right,  we 
find  a  good  road  along  the  open  terraces  of  the  en 
chanting  Yellowstone,  descend  a  steep  grade  near 
a  rocky  rapid,  and  among  the  numerous  bubbling, 
spluttering  pools  of  the  famous  Mud  Volcanoes  to 
the  open  valley  near  the  corral  of  Chief  Joseph.  To 
the  left  fine  camp 

A  little  farther  to  the  left,  on  the  eastern  margin  of  the 
main  Mud  Volcano,  is  what  vandals  have  spared  of 
the  rudely-constructed  defences  of  this  chieftain's 
headquarters  while  his  people  were  crossing  at  the 
best  ford  upon  the  entire  Yellowstone  River  below 
the  lake. 

This  is  at  an  island  half  a  mile  above,  and  should 
not  be  attempted  without  a  guide  ;  but  trout,  large, 
handsome,  and  gamy,  without  number,  and,  from  the 
countless  long  white  worms  with  which  they  are  in 
fested,  without  value,  unless  to  persons  as  hungry  as 
we  have  sometimes  become,  when  they  prove  neither 
unpalatable  or  unwholesome. 

At  some  rude  stone-heaps  beyond  and  to  the  right  is 
the  camp  of  General  Miles  after  his  Clark's  fork 
defeat  of  the  Bannocks  in  1878,  and  a  winding  road 
through  lovely  groves  and  grassy  lawns,  and  skirt 
ing  the  truly  "  Peerless  Lovely  River,"  we  descend 
a  slope  to  a  grove  and  matchless  camp  at  the  foot  of 
the  mystic  Yellowstone  Lake 

From  this  camp  or  the  long  sand-spit  below  it  I  have 
often  crossed  the  river  with  a  raft,  swimming  the 
horses,  to  the  trail  to  Concretion  Cove,  which  starts 
out  from  the  beach  nearly  a  half-mile  up  and 
through  the  dense  timber  to  the  muddy  fords  of 
the  Pelican,  is  a  difficult  trail  to  follow. 

As  it  may  be  desirable  for  many  parties  to  divide  at 
the  Upper  Geyser  Basin,  and  while  one  outfit  pro 
ceeds  with  wagons  along  the  road  we  have  just 
traversed  to  the  end  of  it,  at  the  lovely  camp  and 
site  for  a  hotel  and  steamboat-landing  at  Toppin's 
Point,  just  above,  the  other,  with  saddle-  and  pack- 
train,  come  by  the  mountain  trail,  which  we  now  re- 


Miles.    Miles. 


80 


86 


262 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 


turn  to  trace.  It  will  be  remembered  that  from  the 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs  to  the  Upper  Geyser  is  called 
in  miles  .  .  .  .  .  • 

This  is  much  less  than  estimated  by  us  when  construct 
ing  or  by  others  in  traversing  it ;  and  although  the 
results  are  similar  in  the  odometer  measurements  of 
Captain  Stanton  and  Lieutenant  Steever,  under  the 
orders  of  General  Sheridan,  in  1871,  throughout  the 
Park,  still,  as  being  the  only  semblance  of  measure 
ments  ever  made  of  our  roads,  I  adopt  them,  not  as 
positively,  but  as  approximately  correct. 

From  Old  Faithful  we  take  the  bridle-path  through  a 
fine  open  pine  forest  across  a  rocky  ford  of  the  Fire- 
Hole  River,  old  Geyser  Basin,  along  the  steep  cliffs 
and  some  boggy  rivulets  upon  it,  to  the  magnificent 
cascades  which,  from  the  intrepid  twelve-year-old 
son  of  Governor  Hoyt,  of  Wyoming,  who  unflinch 
ingly  shared  in  all  the  hardships,  privations,  and 
dangers  of  the  explorations  of  his  father  and  the 
lamented  Colonel  Mason  in  1 88 1,  in  which  they 
passed  them,  I  felt  justified  in  calling  Kepler's  Cas 
cades.  They  possess  wild  romantic  interest,  well 
worthy  of  a  trip  from  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin  by 
those  who  return  from  there 

Thence  the  trail  winds  through  a  rolling  timbered 
region  and  a  valley  skirting  the  nearly  vertical  walls 
of  the  continental  divide  to  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right 
and  slight  ascent  in  a  narrow  rocky  canon  and  the 
boggy,  swamp-bordered  summit  pond  or  marsh, 
within  2  miles,  cuts  directly  through  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  without  warning  reaches  the  brow 
of  the  cliff  overlooking  the  De  Lacy  fountain-head 
of  that  branch  of  the  Snake  River  fork  of  the  Co 
lumbia  River 

This  is  the  low,  direct,  and  short  but  muddy  Norris 
Pass,  thus  named  by  the  famous  scout  and  guide, 
Yellowstone  Kelly,  upon  its  discovery  by  myself, 
after  fruitless  search  by  himself  and  others  for  any 
pass  in  that  vicinity.  The  descent  of  400  or  500 
feet  is  steep,  even  for  pack-animals,  but  neither 
rocky  nor  boggy  to  the  De  Lacey  camp,  in  one  or 
the  most  secluded  and  charming  parks  in  the  moun 
tains  

A  lovely  side  ride  2  miles  to  the  deep  snow-fed  water 
of  the   Shoshone  Lake,  with  its  beach  glistening 
with  shiny  particles  of  obsidian,  but  no  fish,  nor  i 
there  any  in   Lewis   Lake,  4  miles  below;    while 
Heart  Lake,  7  miles  beyond,  and  many  other  adja 


liles. 


Miles. 


47 


49 


55 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


cent  lakes  and  ponds,  seemingly  no  different  saving 
boggier  shores,  are  literally  filled  with  them  of  dif 
ferent  varieties.  Many  of  the  young  pines  among 
those  storm-strewn  in  this  region  are  dotted  or  liter 
ally  covered  with  unique  bulgy  knots,  which  when 
cut  and  peeled  in  summer  form  fine  walking-cane 
souvenirs.  The  somewhat  interesting  geyser-basins 
at  the  head  of  this  lake  are  too  remote  and  inacces 
sible  to  justify  a  visit  by  any  but  scientists. 

By  steep  winding,  but  neither  muddy  nor  precipitous 
ascent  through  a  pine  forest  again  brings  us  to  the 
summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  at  Two-Ocean 
Pond 

From  one  or  two  rocky  points  above  the  timber  a 
charming  view  may  be  had  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake, 
sleeping  in  matchless  beauty  at  our  feet,  with  the 
evergreen-clad  terraced  sides  and  snowy  summits 
of  the  Sierra  Shoshone  Range  towering  amid  the 
clouds  beyond.  The  descent  is  winding,  steep,  and 
log-obstructed  to  the  hot-spring  camp  at  the  western 
end  of  the  Great  Thumb  of  Yellowstone  Lake 

For  an  explanation  of  the  name  of  this  and  other  por 
tions  of  this  famous  lake,  as  well  as  of  its  peculiar 
contour,  reference  is  made  to  note  32;  and  for  a 
brief  statement  as  to  the  catching  and  broiling  of  the 
large,  wormy  trout  along  this  geyserite  beach,  see 
note  36. 

This  hot-spring  beach  is  the  point  from  which  to  make 
the  side  trip  to  Mount  Sheridan  and  Heart  Lake 
upon  the  Pacific  drainage,  through  dense  and  often 
tangled  or  fallen  pines  and  parks,  but  without  a 
vestige  of  a  mountain  on  the  continental  divide, 
which  is  here  the  levellest  stretch  of  land  in  the 
region,  and  one  of  the  least  elevated. 

Distance  to  Mount  Sheridan  (unless  that  dashing  officer 
opened  a  route  last  summer)  anywhere  from  10  to  20 
miles ;  time,  2  days ;  outfit,  extraordinary, — a  full 
supply  of  tough  clothing,  and  stanch  fortitude  to  pre 
vent  wear  and  tear  of  flesh,  and  also  of  conscience, 
for  imprecations  at  the  pines,  the  packers,  the  saddle- 
and  pack-animals,  and  above  all  the  person  who  ad 
vised  making  this  side  trip.  A  renewal  of  this  outfit 
will  be  necessary  for  those  returning  via  the  Upper 
Yellowstone,  Two-Ocean  Pass,  and  Wind  River 
route,  that  of  the  Stinking- Water,  or  even  the  eastern 
shore  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake  to  its  foot. 

From  the  fishing-camp  our  bridle-path  or  trail  traverses 
a  fire-hole  basin,  crosses  a  high  bluff,  and  reaches  a 


263 

Miles. 

Miles. 

3X 

59/2 

3 

62/2 

264 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  PARK. 


hot  creek  and  poor  camp  in  a  forest  too  dense  fo 
safety  in  picketing  horses  .... 
Rough  route  through  annoying  fallen  timber  5  miles 
sharp  turn  to  the  left,  and  from  a  bold  ridge  the  firs 
and  best  view  of  the  arch  of  the  Natural  Bridge  ? 
had  at  a  distance  of  fully  a  mile  northwesterly,  whic 
we  reach  by  winding  to  the  left  over  a  warm-sprin 
creek  and  possible  camp. 

Though  not  one  of  the  leading  points  of  attraction,  : 
is  the  best  near  it,  and  a  substantial,  natural  roadwa 
over  a  small  stream,  over  which  a  great  game-trai 
passed,  and  I  shot  a  fine  grizzly  in  ambush  amonj 
the  fallen  timber  at  its  western  abutment  at  my  firs 
visit,  which  was  alone;  but  the  accurate  description 
of  the  bridge  to  be  found  on  pages  22  and  23  of  mj 
report  of  1880  is  too  long  for  copying  here  . 

Romantic  ride  through  groves  and  parks  to  the  foot  o 
the  lake 

Description  of  the  trails  beyond  the  lake  and  river  wil 
be  deferred. 

ROAD   TO   THE  YELLOWSTONE   FALLS. 

Retrace  our  route  to  the  crossing  of  Sage  Creek  (at  the 
lake,  86) 

Deep  valley  and  rounded,  grassy  hills  to  the  Sulphur 
Mountain,  which  is  uniquely  interesting,  but  soon 
seen,  and  from  sulphur  fumes  and  poison  water  a 
poor  camp  ..... 

Fine  road  over  a  treeless  plain  to  Allen  Creek 

The  broad,  bare  estuary  appearance  of  the  borders  of 
this  stream  is  due  to  the  sour  mineral  properties  of 
its  waters  below,  where  they  are  hot,  similar  to  which 
is  Sour  Creek,  which  enters  the  Yellowstone  nearly 
opposite. 

Crossing  a  treeless  terrace,  a  long  dugway  in  the  side 
of  a  mountain,  and  skirting  the  broad,  placid  waters 
of  the  river  to  the  cove  near  the  rapids,  one-fourth 
of  a  mile  above  the  Upper  Falls 

This  is  the  present  end  of  the  road  from  this  direction', 
there  being  a  gap  of  16  miles  by  one  bridle-path 
and  1 8  by  the  other  to  Tower  Falls,  where  the  road 
from  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  now  terminates.  It 
is  at  this  camp  that,  breast-high  upon  a  pine-tree 
about  20  inches  in  diameter,  are  still  legible  upon 
the  bark,  «  J.  O.  R.,  Aug.  29,  1819,"  which  is  the 
oldest  record  by  white  man  of  which  I  have  any 
knowledge  in  the  Park.  Upon  the  banks  of  the 


Miles 


Miles. 


69 


75 
80 


94 


97 


100 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


265 


creek,  with  a  broad  mouth,  about  a  mile  above  this, 
are  the  old  brands  of  the  slaughtered  tourist's  camp- 
fire  referred  to  in  the  poem  "  Lonely  Glen"  and 
note  thereto. 

The  broad,  tranquil  river  here  rapidly  converges,  as 
its  current  increases,  to  the  narrowest  point  upon 
the  river  below  the  lake,  which  is  scant  70  feet, 
where  the  abutments  of  a  bridge  are  commenced 
over  the  foaming  rapids  at  the  head  of  the  Upper 
Falls.  These,  in  a  half-cascade  leap  of  about  the 
same  as  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  reach  the  again  broad 
channel,  so  shallow  and  gliding  that,  at  the  proper 
stage  of  water  at  least,  Yellowstone  Kelly  and  my 
self  have  forded  it  upon  horseback  just  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Cascade  Creek.  (See  note  71.) 

Within  the  distance  of  about  one  mile  from  the  camp, 
in  the  cove  above  the  main  rapids,  we  skirt  them  to 
the  Upper  Falls  upon  the  bridge,  as  illustrated, 
across  the  Cascade  Creek  (see  note  81)  and  falls, 
and  reach  the  camp  at  the  head  of  the  trail  (not 
bridle-path)  to  the  Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  . 

Descent  to  the  head  of  the  falls  500  feet,  where  on  the 
pole-railed  shelf  amid  the  mist  the  nearly  400  feet 
of  clear  leap,  the  narrow  thread  of  foaming  water, 
and  the  brightly-tinted  walls  of  mighty  eroded 
canon  are  beside,  beneath,  or  before  you,  and  to 
the  right,  opposite,  and  above,  at  my  favorite  camp, 
when  able  to  cross  the  river  above  to  reach  it,  is  far 
the  finest  location  for  a  future  hotel  to  be  found  in 
the  vicinity. 

From  the  camp  above  the  Great  Falls  one  bridle-path 
follows  the  verge  of  the  Grand  Canon  to  the  right, 
another  through  the  open  sage-brush  plateau  to 
some  fine  camps  within  a  mile  on  Spring  Creek  and 
to  the  left 

THE  MOUNT  WASHBURN  BRIDLE-PATH. 

Open,  grassy  ridge,  and  descent  to  a  large  and  fine 
camp  on  Cascade  Oeek  above  its  canon.  (See  notes 
68  and  69.) 

Open,  occasionally  boggy  valley,  then  skirt  Dun 
Raven's  Peak  to  the  left,  and  the  main  peak  of 
Mount  Washburn  upon  the  right,  to  a  grassy  plateau, 
from  which  an  easy  and  safe  ascent  of  less  than  one 
mile  brings  us  to  the  oval  summit  .  .  .  • . 

Long  grassy  slope  to  forks  of  the  trails 

Rolling  open  hills  I  mile,  then  continuous  descent  to 
camp  at  Tower  Creek  above  the  falls 
M  23 


Miles. 


Miles. 


lOi 


9 
13 


266 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


GRAND  CANON  BRIDLE-PATH. 

Skirting  the  brink  of  the  Grand  Canon  from  the  camp 
above  the  he  >d  of  the  Great  Falls  of  the  Yellow 
stone  to  Lookout  Point  ...... 

This  rudely  railed  rocky  cliff  directly  fronting  the 
Great  Falls,  and  1000  feet  nearly  vertically  above  the 
foaming  rapids  in  the  Grand  Canon  below  them,  is 
far  the  best  point  for  an  unobstructed  view  of  them 
all,  than  which  few  places  earthly  combine  as  much 
of  the  unique,  the  beautiful,  and  the  grand. 

The  two  notches  observable  in  the  brink  of  the  Great 
Fall  were  first  noticed  in  the  spring  of  1881,  when 
a  heavy  slide  of  rocks  at  the  cleft  of  Spring  Creek, 
past  the  Red  Pinnacles,  where  the  famous  artist 
Bierstadt  took  one  of  his  sketches  of  the  Great  Falls 
the  same  season,  also  destroyed  the  route  of  descent 
to  the  foot  of  the  falls.  (See  note  70.) 

Upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  Grand  Canon,  a  mile  or 
so  below  Lookout  Point,  is  the  shelf  of  rock  from 
which  the  great  artist  Moran  made  one  of  the 
sketches  for  his  famous  painting  of  the  Falls  of  the 
Yellowstone,  now  in  the  upper  anteroom  to  the 
Senate  chamber  in  Washington.  Below  this  point, 
upon  that  side  of  the  canon  is  the  Sliding  Cascade, 
1400  feet  high,  nearly  opposite  to  which  the  bridle 
path  leaves  the  canon  for  the  meadow  camp,  which 
is  good,  but  poor  water  ..... 

PAINTED   CLIFF   BRIDLE-PATH. 

From  the  lower  end  of  the  meadow  to  the  right,  I 
mile  through  open  pine  forests,  another  steep  descent 
to  the  small  but  beautiful  Safety-Valve  Geyser,  and 
another  constant  descent  through  an  ancient  fire- 
hole  brings  us  to  good  trout  and  trout-fishing  at  the 
uniquely  beautiful  Painted  Cliffs,  nearly  2000  ver 
tical  feet  below  our  meadow  camp,  and  the  only 
place  where  a  trail  reaches  the  river  between  the 
Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  and  those  of  Tower 
Creek. 

Open,  sometimes  boggy,  meadow,  pine  forest,  Fire- 
Hole  Basin,  with  a  black-mud  geyser  on  the  left,  to 
the  charming  secluded  camp  of  Glade  Creek  . 

Long  and,  in  portions,  rocky  ascent  to  the  summit  of 
Rowland's  Pass  of  the  upper  spur  of  Mount  Wash- 
burn,  for  a  description  of  which,  and  its  discovery, 
reference  is  made  to  the  note  to  "  In  Cabin,  Camp, 
or  Council."  (See  note  87.)  .... 


Miles.  :   Miles 


105 


108 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


267 


From  the  brushy  summit  of  this  pass  there  is  a  fine 
lookout  a  few  rods  to  the  right,  and  within  half  a 
mile  beyond  another,  commanding  a  fair  view  of  the 
yawning  Grand  Canon  above  and  below,  as  well  as 
those  of  the  Broad  and  Orange  Creeks  beyond  it. 

To  the   left  the  route  (not  well   opened)  of  a  good 
bridle-path  to  the  snowy  summit  of  this    spur   of 
Mount  Washburn  and  a  magnificent  view  of  all  the 
surrounding   regions,   second   only  to   that   of  the 
highest  peak,  which  can  be  reached  during  much  of  j 
the  summer  by  a  romantic  ride  or  walk  of  less  than  | 
2  miles  along  the  crest  of  this  spur. 

The  descent  from  Rowland's  Pass  is  continuous,  but 
not  steep,  along  the  grassy  slope  of  another  spur  to 
the  clear  icy  waters,  luxuriant  grass,  and  abundant 
fuel  of  the  finest  groups  of  charming  sheltered 
camps  in  the  mountains,  at  the  crossings  of  the  snow- 
fed  rivulet-feeders  of  Antelope  Creek,  nearly  west 
from  the  ancient  ruin  of  unknown  builders  men 
tioned  in  my  reports,  but  now  burned 

Romantic  undulating  valley,  brilliant  with  flowers,  to 
the  forks  of  the  bridle-paths 

TOWER    CREEK   AND   FALLS. 

Good  camp  on  Antelope  Creek  to  the  right;  best  place 
for  a  view  of  the  wonderful  Tower  Falls  a  little  down 
the  creek ;  thence  a  steep  descent  to  its  confluence 
with  the  Yellowstone,  beneath  vertical  walls  many 
hundreds  of  feet  in  height,  ornamented  and  capped 
by  the  long  horizontal  lines  of  remarkably  beautiful 
basaltic  columns. 

The  old  Indian  ford  of  the  Yellowstone,  just  above,  is 
dangerous,  but  the  nauseous  gas  from  the  adjacent 
springs  is  not,  nor  does  it  affect  the  waters  of  these 
streams,  in  each  of  which,  near  their  confluence,  are 
trout  and  trout-fishing  unsurpassed  in  the  mountains. 
A  steep,  continuous  ascent  of  500  feet  from  the 
bridge  above  the  falls  brings  us  to  the  summit  of 
the  cliff  and  wagon-road  from  the  Mammoth  Hot 
Springs. 

From  this  peculiar  point  of  attraction  the  road  passes 
through  open  groves  of  huge  fir-trees,  resembling 
eastern  hemlocks,  some  steep  descents  and  canons 
to  Hot-Spring  Creek,  and  camp  just  above  the 
famous  Baronet's  Bridge  at  the  forks  of  the  Yellow 
stone 

Less  than  2  miles  nearly  west  from  this  camp  is  a 


Miles. 


Miles. 


"3 

116 

118 


121 


268 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 


small  lake,  and  along  the  steep  cliffs  to  the  right,  as 
well  as  on  the  slope  of  a  side  branch  below  it  to  the 
north,  are  the  stumps,  from  2  to  15  or  20  feet  high,  of 
fossilized  ancient  trees  still  erect,  and  many  fallen,  and 
a  fine  place  to  secure  beautiful  fragments,  as  well  as 
chalcedony,  agate,  amethyst,  and  other  formations 
found  in  them  or  strewn  along  the  cliff  or  creek. 
Hot-Spring  Creek,  past  forks  of  Miners'  trail,  to  fine 
camp  in  Pleasant  Valley  ..... 
Much  steep  grade,  but  several  good  camps,  to  the 

summit  of  the  Devil's  Cut,  or  Dry  Canon 
Upon  the  bald  patches  of  the  eroding  basaltic  terraces 
to  the  left  of  this  canon  are  countless  unique  geodes 
filled  with   various   beautifully-tinted    crystals    and 
concretions ;  grassy  slopes  and  terraces  to  the  dark 
cliffs  of  the   modern  lava-beds  to  the  left,  and  a 
yawning  canon  to  the  right;  fair  camp    . 
Grassy  pass  and  plains  to  bridge  over  Black-tail  Deer 

Creek 

Grassy  valley  and  terraces  to  the  Upper  Falls  of  the 
East  Gardiner  River,  40  feet  high  .... 
Beneath  the  dark  foliage  of  the  trees  at  the  eastern  end 
of  the  rustic  bridge  at  the  brink  of  these  falls  may 
still  be  seen  some  of  the  boughs  of  my  rude  couch, 
made  as  related  in  note  75- 

From  this  place  the  ascent  is  easy  from  across  the 
bridge  to  a  wild  region  along  the  towering  cliffs  of 
the  Gardiners,  and  to  the  right  those  of  Mount  Ev- 
arts.  From  the  brink  of  the  cliffs  north  of  these 
falls,  and  nearly  in  the  spray  of  another,  where  one 
can  pass  between  the  sheet  of  water  and  wall-rock, 
there  is  a  charming  view  of  the  long  grade  of  our 
road  adown  the  cafion  of  the  East  Gardiner,  our 
headquarter  buildings,  the  mist-clouds  and  white 
terraces  of  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  clear-cut 
upon  the  green  slopes  of  the  Sepulchre  Mountain, 
which  we  reach  at .  .  .  .  .  .  . 

MINERS'  BRTDLE-PATH  FROM  THE  FORKS 
OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE  TO  THE  SODA 
BUTTE  MEDICINAL  SPRINGS. 

Baronet's  Bridge  is  upon  the  site  of  the  first  one  ever 
built  upon  any  portion  of  the  Yellowstone,  and  the 
scene  of  many  thrilling  scenes,  some  of  which  are 
referred  to  in  the  poem  and  attached  note  of  "  Oh, 
is  there  in  this  World  so  drear?" 

Open  route  and  valley  past  a  dark  lava  butte  on  the 


Miles. 


Miles. 


123 
125 


I29 


134 


138 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 


269 


right,  two  lakes  filled  with  water-fowl  on  the  left  to 
Amethyst  Creek  .  

From  this  creek  there  are  several  steep  but  not  difficult 
routes  of  ascent  to  the  grassy  dome  south,  which  is 
the  front  and  lower  one  of  the  famous  Specimen,  or 
Amethyst  Mountain,  from  the  fossilized  trunks  and 
stumps  of  ancient  forests  upon  which,  the  first,  the 
greatest  number  and  among  the  finest  specimens  of 
fossil  wood,  chalcedony,  onyx,  opal,  and  beautifully- 
tinted  agates,  amethysts,  and  other  crystals  ever  found 
in  any  region  have  been  obtained,  and  comparatively 
few,  obtainable  without  heavy  work  with  pick  and 
fuse,  remain.  But  those  with  curiosity,  nerve,  and 
a  good  horse  can  follow  near  the  verge  of  the  cliffs 
about  a  mile,  and  then  descend,  zigzagging  their 
horse  as  I  have  done,  to  our  old  camp  in  the  aspens, 
beneath  in  the  valley  to  the  left,  or  go  the  whole  2 
miles  along  the  cliffs,  descending  by  the  timbered 
canon  beyond.  They  will  find  descent  a  vertical 
half-mile  at  either  of  these  places  is  not  boy's  play. 

The  valley  route  is  smooth  and  open,  affording  a  fine 
view  at  a  half  mile's  distance  of  the  countless  fossils, 
stumps,  trunks  supported  by  the  vertical  walls  or 
the  prostrate  logs  of  a  succession  of  ancient  forests, 
the  roots  of  one  often  over  the  tops  of  that  beneath 
to  a  vertical  height  of  nearly  a  half-mile;  to  the  east 
fork  of  the  Yellowstone  ..... 

Here  the  bridle-path  forks,  and  following  that  to  the 
left  in  the  open  valley  and  across  the  creek,  we  reach 
the  famous  ancient  geyser  cone  and  present  medici 
nal  springs  of  Soda  Butte. 

This  is  the  legendary  spring  of  the  surrounding  Indian 
nations  for  the  cure  of  the  saddle-galls  of  horse,  or 
arrow  or  other  wounds  of  warriors,  and  besides 
properties  similar  to  those  of  the  Arkansas  Hot 
Springs,  will  soon  fatten  man  or  animal  using  it. 
To  this  add  its  location  in  a  sheltered  valley  amid 
and  in  plain  view  of  the  fossil  forests  and  basaltic 
snow-capped  cliffs  of  the  Specimen,  Longfellow, 
Norris,  Grand  Tower,  and  other  surrounding  moun 
tains,  it  cannot  (properly  managed)  fail  of  soon  be 
coming  one  of  the  foremost  summer  resorts  of  the 
continent. 

CLARK'S  FORK  MINERS'  TRAIL. 

From  the  Soda  Butte  this  bridle-path  passes  the  famous 
Trout  Lake 

23* 


Miles. 

Miles. 

I 

IO 

2 

12 

3 

15 

2 

17 

270 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 


Round  Prairie    .         .         .         *         •         • 
Line  of  Montana        ....••• 
Cook  City,  in  the  centre  of  a  wonderful  group  of  gold 
and  silver  lodes,  not  developed,  but  of  great  prom 
ise  

Thence  there  is  a  bridle-path,  via  the  base  of  the  In 
dex  Peak  and  Heart  Mountain,  to  the  Stinking-Water 
Valleys,  one  fork  of  it  to  the  Big-horn  Valley  and 
Fort  Custer,  and  the  left-hand  one,  near  Clark's 
Fork  Canon,  to  the  plains,  and  thence  to  Coulson, 
upon  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  whence  I  learn 
there  is  a  purpose  of  running  a  line  of  travel,  but  I 
doubt  it  being  properly  opened  this  season,  and  will 
ever  be  a  wild,  elevated,  romantic  route  for  trail, 
road,  or  railroad. 

GOBLIN-LAND  BRIDLE-PATH. 

Half  a  mile  southeasterly  from  the  crossing  of  the 
east  fork,  on  the  Miners'  route,  is  the  Gamekeeper's 
Cabin,  built  by  Harry  Yount,  the  famous  scout  and 
guide  of  Wyoming,  while  my  assistant,  as  game 
keeper  of  the  Park,  and  where  he  spent  the  winter 
of  1880  and  1881. 

From  this  cabin  the  bridle-path  traverses  the  open, 
grassy  slope  of  Mount  Norris  to  the  ford  of  Cache 
Creek, — thus  named  by  a  party  of  forty  odd  gold- 
seeking  pilgrims  who  were  there  set  afoot  by  the 
Indians,  and  cacheing, — i.e.,  burying  what  they  could 
subsequently  find  and  not  carry  off, — by  the  aid  of  a 
pair  of  donkeys  who  would  not  go  with  the  Indians, 
made  their  return  afoot  in  1864  .... 

Through  groves  and  glades  up  the  east  side  of  the 
east  fork  to  Calfee's  Creek 

East  Fork  Valley,  and  over  a  steep  bluff  to  the  left,  on 
to  Miller's  Creek 

North  or  left-hand  bluffs  of  Miller's  Creek  to  its 
forks • 

Zigzag  ascent  of  1500  feet,  and  then  through  open 
parks  and  dense  thickets  among  the  snow-fields  to 
our  old  camp  near  the  group  of  deserted  Indian 
teepees  and  lodges  at  the  foot  of  Parker's  Peak 

Down  a  yawning  canon  to  the  Goblins  on  the  left 

Ascent  of  the  Hood's  Mountain  to  our  monument  of 
1880 : 

From  the  illustration  (see  page  43)  of  a  portion  of 
these  Goblins,  those  in  my  report  of  1880,  and  de 
scription  of  this  region  when  first  explored  in  1880 


Miles. 

3 
4 


Miles. 
2O 
24 


22 
24 

25 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE  PARK. 

271 

Miles. 

Miles. 

and   1  88  1    (see  note  87),  some  conception  can  be 

formed  of  them  ;  but  only  actual  view  can  ever  fully 

impress  the  mind  with  the  weird,  unearthly  char 

acter  of  the  dykes,  canons,  and  goblins  of  one  of 

the  wildest  regions  which  I  have  ever  seen  in  all 

my  mountain  wanderings,  although  the  peaks  and 

canons  are  on  a  much  grander  scale  along  the  Sierra 

Shoshone  Range  to  the  south. 

We  were  kept  in  our  old  camp  amid  the  balsams  during 

the  4th  and  5th  days  of   September,    1  88  1,  by  a 

howling  storm,  which  broke  away,  so  that  C.  M. 

Stephens  and  myself  waded  through  deep  snow  to 

the  summit  of  the  Goblin  Mountain,  and  spent  the 

entire  day  of  the  6th  shivering  beside  our  instru 

ments  in  fogs  from  melting   snow  in  the    canons, 

through  shifting  rifts,  in  which  we  got  what  bear 

ings  were  possible  under  the  circumstances. 

Renewal  of  the  storm  in  all  its  fury  drove  us  to  the 

Soda   Butte  Valley  (below  it)  on  the   7th  without 

making  our  proposed  exploration  of  less  than  20 

miles  through  a  terribly  broken  region  to  the  Fort 

Custer  trail,  whence,  from  near  Crandle  Creek,  I 

think  a  route  may  be  found  to  the  Goblin  Mountain. 

Two  miles  above  our  trail,  on   Cache  Creek,  are 

some  interesting  hot  medicinal  springs,  and  countless 

fine  trout  in  the  waters  still  discolored  by  them. 

FOSSIL  FOREST  BRIDLE-PATH. 

From  Gamekeeper's  Cabin  to  the  foot  of  Amethyst 

Mountain,  nearly  opposite  a  fire-hole  in  the  foot  of 

Mount  Norris         ....... 

3 

Summit  of  Amethyst  Mo.untain            .... 

3 

6 

Orange  Creek  and  camp     

5 

ii 

Sulphur  Hills               

4 

1C 

Forks  of  Pelican  Creek       ...... 

8 

J 

23 

Indian   Pond   and  Concretion   Cove,  on  Yellowstone 

Lake  (camp.)          

5 

28 

Lower  ford  of  Pelican  Creek      ..... 

3 

31 

Yellowstone  Lake,  half  a  mile  above  the  foot     . 

3 

34 

These  distances  —  estimates  only  —  and  the  route  from 

fallen  timber  difficult  without  a  guide. 

NEZ-PERCE  BRIDLE-PATH. 

Indian  Pond  to  Pelican  Creek  Valley 

3 

Upper  ford  of  Pelican  Creek     

3 

6 

Nez  Perce  ford  of  the  Yellowstone     .         . 

6 

12 

272 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE   PARK. 


Good  route  with  a  good  guide,  and  difficult  in  many 
places  without  one. 

CONCRETION  COVE  AND  INDIAN  POND. 

One  of  the  loveliest  camps  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  where  the  unique  concretions  figured  and  de 
scribed  in  my  reports,  and  referred  to  in  my  poem 
and  notes  of  the  "  Mystic  Lake  of  Wonder-Land," 
are  plentifully  found. 

There  are  no  really  good  fords,  and  few  of  any  kind 
on  the  lower  Pelican,  but  these  birds  and  other 
water-fowl,  as  well  as  wormy  trout,  are  plentiful  be 
yond  conception. 

PASSAMARIA,   OR   STINKING-WATER 
BRIDLE-PATH. 

Concretion  Cove  to  Turbid  Lake         . 
Jones's  Pass  of  the  Sierra  Shoshone  Range 
Confluence  of  the  Passamaria  and  Stinking- Water 
A  rough  route,  elevated  pass,  and  thence  a  fearful 
canon  above  the  forks  of  the  Stinking  Water. 


Miles. 

Miles 

3 

7 

10 

12 

22 

GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE  PARK. 


273 


RECAPITULATION    OF    DISTANCES,    ROADS,    BRIDLE 
PATHS,  AND   TRAILS  WITHIN   THE   PARK. 


ROADS. 

Road  to  the  Geyser-Basins. 


Mammoth  Hot  Springs  to  Terrace  Pass     ..... 

Swan  Lake  Camp         ..........          3 

Middle  Gardiner  Camp 

Willow  Park,  good  camp 

Cold  Springs         ...........          i 

Obsidian  Cliffs 

Green  Creek,  poison  water i 

Lake  of  the  Woods i 

Norris  Valley,  good  camps          ........          2 

Norris  Fork,  good  camps    .........          3 

Norris  Geyser  Basin    ......... 

Geyser  Creek,  good  camp 3 

Foot-Bridge  to  Monument  Geysers     ......'          i 

Falls  of  the  Gibbon 4 

Canon  Creek,  half-mile  below  camp 

Earthquake  Cliffs 

Lookout  Terrace          ..........          2 

Prospect  Point,  near  the  forks  of  the  Fire-Holes  Camp    ...          3 

Lower  Geyser  Basin 

Excelsior  Geyser,  Midway  Basin  Camp 2 

Old  Faithfin,  Upper  Geyser  Basin  Camp 6 

Return  to  Prospect  Point 

Road  to  Henry's  Lake,  Virginia  City,  and  Dillon,  on  the  Utah 
Northern  Railroad. 

Prospect  Point  to  Marshall's  Hotel 

Lookout  Cliffs 

Riverside,  camp  and  trout  .........          4 

Henry's  Lake 

Henry's  Fork,  ruute  to  the  Utah  Northern  R.  R.  at  Camas,  65 
Virginia  City        ...........        60 

Dillon,  coach  daily  to  railroad    ........        65 

Old  Madison  Canon  Road. 

Forks  of  Roads 

Mouth  of  Gibbon,  camp  and  trout     .  5 

Foot  of  Maoison  Canon,  camp  and  trout 6 

Riverside,  camp  and  trout  .........  3 

Queen ' s  Laundry  Road. 

To  the  Bath-Rooms 

Return 3 

Road  to  the  Yellowstone  Lake  and  Falls. 

From  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  via  the  Upper  Basin  .         .        . 

Rocky  Fork  Camp 5 

Willow  Camp 2 

Mary's  Lake,  brackish  water      ........  4 

Alum  Creek  Camp,  and  trout  near     .......  3 

Sage  Creek,  forks  of  road,  and  wormy  trout;  no  rvood    ...  7 

Mud  Geysers,  good  camp,  wormy  trout 2 


Miles.  Miles. 


274 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF   THE   PARK. 


Foot  of  Yellowstone  Lake  . 

Retun.  tc  Sage  Creek 

Sulphur  Mountain .'        !         .          iV 

Mouth  of  Alum  Creek  Camp,  wormy  trout        .'.'.".  i1/ 

Cove  above  the  Upper  Falls  Camp,  wormy  trout  '.         3 

Bridie-Path  to  Tower  Falls. 

Crystal  Falls,  short  half-mile 

Great  Falls,  short  half-mile          ........  \ 

Lookout  Point,  camp  half-mile  north          .         '.         '.  i 

Meadow  Camp,  passable  water  . 

Painted  Cliff  Trail  and  return,  6 

Glade  Creek,  fine  camp        ......        I         *         .          3 

Ruwia  id's  Pass  (ascend  Mount  Washburn  2  miles)  !  21/ 

Antelope  Creek,  splendid  camp  .  21/ 

Forks  of  Bridie-Paths          .....'  3 

Tower  Creek,  good  camp,  fine  trout  ......!          2 

Mammoth  Hot  Spring  Road. 

Hot  Spring  Creek,  or  Forks  of  the  Yellowstone,  good  ramp  and 

trout 

Pleasant  Valley,  good  c.imp        ...'.'.'. 
Dry  Canon  ...... 

L.<va-Beds,  sewr.il  camps  ...'.. 

Blacktail  Deer  Creek  and  camp          ....'.'.' 

Upper  Falls  of  the  East  Gardiner 

Cascade.-,  of  the  East  Gardiner,  half-mile  above 

Mammoth  Hot  Springs 

Middle  Gardiner  Bridie-Path. 

Mammoth  Hot  Springs  to  the  Falls  of  the  Middle  Gardiner     . 

Sheep-Eater  Cliffs 

Road  to  the  Geysers \ 

Shoshone  Lake  Bridie-Path. 

Kepler's  Cascades 

N orris  Pass  of  the  Rocky  Mountains        .  16 

De  Lacy's  Creek  and  Camp,  Pacific  waters 

J  wo  Ocean  Pond,  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  3l/2 

Ihumb  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  camp     .         .  3 

Hot  Spring  Creek,  poor  camp    .  614 

Natural  Bridge,  near  camps        ....  6 

Foot  of  Yellowstone  Lake,  camp         •         '.'.'.'.'.  5 

Mount  Washlmrn  Bridie-Path. 

Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  to  Cascade  Creek  Camp  . 

Spur  of  Mount  Washburn,  which  ascend  i  mile  , 

Forks  of  Bi  idle- Paths 

Tower  Falls  Camp       ....!!.".*." 

Painted  Cliff  Bridie-Path. 

Meadow  Crimp  to  head  of  Grand  Canon    . 
Safety- Valve  Pulsating  Geyser   . 
Yellowstone  River  at  Painted  Cliffs    . 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF   THE   PARK. 


Paint-Pots  Bridie-Path. 


275 
Miles.  Miles. 


Mouth  of  Geyser  Creek  to  the  Paint-Pots 

Geyser  Gorge        ..... 

Earthquake  Gorge 

Rocky  Fork  Crossing  . 

Mary's  Lake  Road,  near  WilLw  Creek     .         '.        ".         '.        '.         .'          5 

Miners'  Bridie-Path. 

Baronet's  Bridge,  at  Forks  of  the  Yellowstone  River 
Amethyst  Creek,  camp  and  trout         .... 
Crossing,  East  Fork  of  Yellowstone  River,  camp  and  trout 
Soda  Butte,  Medicinal  Springs,  camp  and  trout 

Trout  Lake 

Round  Prairie      .... 

North  line  of  Wyoming       ..'.'...'.  A 

Clarke's  Forks  Pass  Camp,  near  northeast  corner  of  the  Park        '. 

Hoodoo,  or  Goblin  Mountain  Bridie-Path. 

Gamekeeper's  Cabin,  on  the  Soda  Butte,  to  Hot  Sulphur  Springs 

Ford  of  Cache  Creek 

Alum  Springs  and  return     . 
Calfee  Creek 
Miller's  Creek 

Old  Camp 

Goblin  Labyrinths        ....*.*" 
Monument  on  Hoodoo  or  Goblin  Mountain        .         '.        \ 

Fossil  Forest  Bridie-Path. 

Gamekeeper's  Cabin  to  the  foot  of  Amethyst  Mountain  . 

Summit  of  Amethyst  Mountain  o 

Orange  Creek 

Sulphur  Hills       . 

Forks  of  Pelican  Creek \ 

Indian  Pond  at  Concretion  Cove  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake 

Lower  Ford  of  Pelican  Creek 

Foot  of  the  Yellowstone  Lake 

Passamaria,  or  Stinking- Water  Bridie-Path. 

Concretion  Cove  to  Turbid  Lake 

Jones's  Pass  of  the  Sierra  Shoshone  Range        ....  7 

Confluence  of  the  Jones  and  Stinking-Water  Fork  of  the  Passamaria 
River  .     -   

Nez-Perce  Bridie-Path. 

Indian  Pond  to  Pelican  Valley 

Ford  of  Pelican  Creek \         ' 

Wez-Perce  Ford  of  the  Yellowstone   ....  6 


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